


i 



ff 






f 



^^^ 



If/ 

mm 



< cc 



Library of Congress. 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 









M 



c 






1 



^- (t <:C 



cc cr- 

^^ ^ 'S. 












gi% 






cjc r 



rcc 

















AX 


^5 % 









cc car 

c CC C(C 






MAN RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS BELIEF. 



TWO SERMONS, 



OCCASIONED BY A PASSAGE 



INAUGURAL DISCOURSE 



HENRY BROUGHAM, Esq., M. P. 

ON HIS INSTALLATION AS 
LORD RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW, APRIL 6, 1825. 



By RALPH WARDLAW, D. D. 



GLASGOW: 

i^tintetr at tf)c S^iiibetsiitB ^u»&, 
FOR WARDLAW AND CUNNINGHAME, TRONGATE ; 

SOLD ALSO BY 

WAUGH & INNES, AND J. WARDLAW & CO. EDINBURGH ; 

L()^fGMAN, HURST, REES, ORMB, BROWN, & GREEN, AND HAMILTON & ADAM, 

LONDON. 

18^25. 



-^/72 33 
/g-zS" 



GLASGOW : 

ANDREW & JOHN M. DUNCAN, 

Pdntert to tli« Univertitv. 



Rev. STEVENSON MACGILL, D, D. 

REGIUS PROFESSOR OF THEOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY 
OF GLASGOW. 

Rev. and Dear Sir, 

The determination to commit these Dis- 
courses to the press was followed, almost instant- 
ly, with the thought and the resolution of in- 
scribing them to you. — The circumstances which 
led to their delivery gave them a kind of relation 
to my Alma Mater, whilst their subject natural- 
ly associated them with the Chair which you so 
honourably and so usefully fill : — and the ap- 
propriateness which these considerations impart- 
ed to my purpose was gratifying to the feelings 
of personal friendship, because of the opportu- 
nity which was thus afforded me of giving pub- 
lic expression to that cordial esteem which I 
have long privately cherished. 



IV 

Were I addressing myself to another, I could 
expatiate with pleasure on those features of cha- 
racter, in the observation of which that esteem 
originated, and of which the increasing develope- 
ment has given it a progressive intenseness. But 
I am sensible there would be an equal violation 
of good taste and of correct feehng, were I to 
obtrude these upon the notice of your own mind, 
and court modesty to self-admiration. 

That by the grace of God (which we ought to 
honour in honouring its effects) you may main- 
tain unblemished the character which it has en- 
abled you to acquire ; — and that your life may 
be long spared, and your labours abundantly 
blessed, in cultivating the minds and hearts of 
candidates for the most important and sacred 
of all functions, is the sincere and fervent 
prayer of. 

Rev. and Dear Sir, 

Yours, with affectionate regard, 

RALPH WARDLAW. 

GLASGOW, Sept, 19, 1825. 



PREFACE. 



The following Sermons (to use the good old- 
fashioned title of pulpit addresses) were deliver- 
ed on the first Lord's Day evenings of the two 
months immediately following the publication of 
Mr. Brougham's Inaugural Discourse j these 
monthly occasions having been preferred, as 
affording, for a subject to which this circum- 
stance had drawn the public attention, a more 
numerous and more promiscuous auditory than 
the ordinary meetings of every Sabbath. 

In prefaces to such Discourses, it is common 
for authors to assure their readers, that they 
were delivered without any view to their subse- 
quent publication : — and for this assurance, they 
sometimes obtain less credit than it is entitled 
to, and possibly sometimes more. In the present 
instance, were an affidavit to this effect worth 
making at all, it might be made in bona jide sin- 



VI 



cerity ; and with equal truth it might be added, 
that my assent to the repeated request to pub- 
lish was given with considerable hesitation. — 
Amongst other reasons for this, one, and not the 
least, was, a dread of the imputation of vanity, 
in presenting myself before the public as an 
antagonist to a man of such distinguished emin- 
ence. My imagination has fancied what might 
be said ; and I have sensitively shrunk from the 
fancy, and almost resolved upon suppression. 
It is possible, I am aware, that this sensitiveness 
may itself be one form of the very principle of 
which it dreads the surmise. It may be allied 
to that description of modesty which Cowper 
represents as lurking 

^' Conceal'd within an unsuspected part. 
The vainest corner of our own vain heart." 

— Should any of my readers be charitably dis- 
posed to trace it to this lurking-place, I shall 
only say, that I hope they are mistaken. 

The subject of these Discourses pertains to a 
department of knowledge, in which, perhaps, 
without a breach of charity, it may be feared, 
the mind of Mr. Brougham, with all the energy 
and riches, and versatility of its highly cultivated 
powers, (of which his Inaugural Address is itself 
so fine a specimen) has been more a stranger 
than in most others ; and if his decisions in this 



Vll 



department be hasty and erroneous, the very 
celebrity which he has attained, and the extent 
of influence thence arising, only render the ne- 
cessity the more urgent, and the duty the more 
imperative, of attempting their exposure. The 
subject itself is one on which correct concep- 
tions are of the very highest moment, — connect- 
ed as it is with incomparably the most interesting 
of all the prospects that lye before us ; — the ac- 
count, namely, which we have every one of us 
to render to our Supreme Ruler and righteous 
Judge. The position which I have undertaken 
to question has been advanced with all publicity ; 
it has been, in a manner, assumed as a funda- 
mental axiom, and no ordinary stress has been 
laid upon it; and the application of it has been 
carried out to a very bold and startling length. 
— By such considerations, connected with the 
fact that no one else, so far as I know, has inti- 
mated any intention of taking up, at least from 
the press, the defence of what I cannot but deem 
important truth, — I have been induced to lay 
my sentiments before the public. If any, agree- 
ing with me in the substance of these sentiments, 
shall yet be disposed to say — " Non tali auxilio" 
— I must console myself with the consciousness 
of having '' done what I could." 

In mentioning the publicity with which the 
position here combated has been advanced, and 



VIU 

the extreme length to which the application of it 
has been carried, I do not refer merely to the 
time when the Inaugural Discourse was deliver- 
ed, but to a subsequent occasion, in a still higher 
quarter. The following is an extract of Mr. 
Brougham's speech in the House of Commons, 
on presenting a petition from Mr. Richard 
Carlile, as reported in the Morning Chronicle 
newspaper of July 1, with the comments of the 
Editor :— 

" It was no offence against the Law to entertain any set 
*' of opinions, either upon reh'gious or pohtical subjects ; 
" neither was it any to discuss them, provided they were 
" discussed with decency and propriety. If a man was an 
" Atheist or an Infidel, it was his misfortune, not his fault ; 
" but if he indecently and improperly published those 
" opinions, then he was amenable to the laws of his 
" country. He should look upon an Atheist or an Infidel, 
'' if there were any such, with pity, not with blame ; and 
" he should consider him to be a rash man who would un- 
" dertake to punish the free discussion of such subjects, pro- 
" vided that discussion was conducted with decency, as he 
'' considered that such discussion, instead of being injurious, 
^' would be beneficial to religion." 

" Mr. Brougham did himself great honour," says the 
Editor, ''by the eloquent and manly manner in which, on 
*' presenting a petition from Richard Carlile, he reprobated 
"^the sentence under which that individual had so long 
'' suffered." 

" His arguments were a very apposite commentary on 
*'the beautiful passage in his Inaugural Discourse, at 

14 



IX 



^' Glasgow, printed at the request of the Principal, Profes- 
"sors, and Students, of that University, and therefore 
^' adopted by that learned and highly respectable body : — 
*' ' The great truth has finally gone forth to all the ends of 
" the earth. That man shall no more render account to man 
"for his belief, over which he himself has no control. 
" Henceforward nothing shall prevail upon us to praise or 
" to blame any one for that which he can no more change 
" than he can the hue of his skin, or the height of his sta- 
" ture,' It is the more meritorious in Mr. Brougham, and 
" the University of Glasgow, to adopt so liberal a principle, 
^' that the nation in general, is, we believe, far from being 
" ripe for it." 

What the Editor of the Morning Chronicle 
here says about the sentiment in question having 
been adopted and sanctioned by the " learned 
and highly respectable body" of the University 
of Glasgow, is exceedingly foolish, and unde- 
serving of any serious comment : nor is it for me 
to say, how far the eulogium bestowed upon 
that body on such a ground would be received 
with complacency by its members. — What I 
wish the reader to mark, is, the length to which 
the application of the said sentiment is carried, 
— and carried with this Editor's unmeasured 
applause. I am a decided friend to that freedom 
of discussion for which Mr. Brougham contends, 
and am as fearless as he can be about its ulti- 
mate results to the cause of truth. I am a de- 
cided friend too to Hberality of sentiment, and to 

b 



charitable judgment of character. But that infi- 
delity, — and not infidelity only, but even atheism 
itself, is to be regarded by us as a man's misfor- 
tune and not his fault, is, in my mind, a licentious 
extension of charity beyond all scriptural and all 
reasonable bounds. That an atheist is to be 
pitied^ I grant. There is not, amongst all on 
earth that can claim compassion, a more truly 
pitiable being. O the dreary wretchedness of 
that soul, if such a soul there be, that has 
quenched to itself the light of creation, and di- 
vested the universe of a presiding and pervading 
Deity ! But amongst the grounds of my pity, I 
must be permitted to include the state of the 
man's heart, as well as of his understanding. A 
blameless atheist — an atheist that has arrived at 
his miserable conclusions without the perverting 
influence of moral praviti^, under one or more of 
its various modifications, — is a character, I hon- 
estly confess, of which I am unable to form the 
conception. To define with unexceptionable pre- 
cision, the boundaries of charity, is a task, for the 
delicacy and difficulty of which I pretend not 
to be competent. But boundaries it surely has. 
And I cannot think that I am chargeable with 
unwarrantably circumscribing these, when I 
refuse the claim of unbiassed candour of judg- 
- ment, or of unimpeachable soundness of moral 
principle, to the man who denies a God ! — In 



XI 



the Discourses it is my endeavour to show, that 
in the scriptures the claim I have just mentioned 
is refused to all infidelity of their pecuHar dis- 
coveries, and to illustrate the principles, on 
which, as I conceive, this refusal may be justly 
vindicated. I hope I shall not be found, on a 
subject as delicate as it is momentous, to have 
" spoken wickedly for God,^' or to have '' dark- 
ened counsel by words without knowledge." 

R. W. 



DISCOURSE L 



John iii. 18, 19. 

" He that helieveth on him is not condemned : hut he that 
believeth not is condemned already, because he hath 
not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. 
And this is the condemnation, that light is come into 
the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, 
because their deeds were eviV^ 

I KNOW not why I should conceal, what has 
led me to the choice of the subject which I have 
just announced. — When names of distinguished 
eminence are found giving their public sanction 
to sentiments, of which the truth is more than 
doubtful, and yet the falsity plausible ; — sen- 
timents, which, wherever they are admitted 
without their necessary qualifications, tend to 
consequences injurious to the best interests of 
mankind 5 and when these sentiments, moreover, 
are arrayed in the charms of a captivating elo- 
quence, and are presented with the tone of con- 
fident triumph, with the emphasis and solemnity 
of oracular wisdom, and what is still more im- 



posing, with the zealous warmth of real though 
mistaken philanthropy : — it cannot surely be 
deemed by any a departure from the proper 
province of a teacher and guardian of divine 
truth, to bear his testimony, with equal publici- 
ty, against them, and to lift the voice, however 
comparatively feeble, of honest and faithful 
warning. 

It is but a few weeks, since the following 
sentences, with every accompaniment that could 
contribute to recommend the leading sentiment 
which they contain to inconsiderate applause, 
and to too unqualified adoption, were delivered, 
in presence of a number of our fellow-citizens, 
to the senate and youth of our university: — 
" As men will no longer suffer themselves 
" to be led blindfold in ignorance, so will they 
" no more yield to the vile principle of judging 
" and treating their fellow-creatures, not ac- 
" cording to the intrinsic merit of their actions, 
** but according to the incidental and involun- 
*' tary coincidence of their opinions. The great 
" truth has finally gone forth to all the ends of 
" the earth, that man shall no more ren- 

" DER ACCOUNT TO MAN FOR HIS BELIEF, OVER 
** WHICH HE HAS HIMSELF NO CONTROL. HenCC- 

" forward, nothing shall prevail upon us to 
«« praise or to blame any one for that which 
<« he can no more change than he can the 



" hue of his skin, or the height of his sta- 
" ture."* 

To these sentences a still greater publicity 
and permanence have since been given by the 
press ; and their leading position, emblazoned 
in capitals, is held forth to the grateful and 
admiring acceptance of the whole world. — That 
they contain no truth, it would be uncandid and 
scandalous to affirm. They do contain truth ; 
and truth too of the highest practical utility. — 
It is a truth, that men ought no longer to be 
led, and it would be a joyful truth, if a truth 
it were, that they are resolved no longer to be 
led, blindfold in ignorance. — It is a truth, that 
the principle which leads men to judge and 
treat each other, not according to the intrinsic 
merit of their actions, but according to the 
accidental and involuntary coincidence of their 
opinions, is a vile principle; — although room 
might obviously enough be found here for cer- 
tain questions of casuistry, about what it is 
that constitutes the intrinsic merit of actions ; 
whether the said merit lies in the actions them- 
selves, or in the principles, in the mind of the 
agent, from which they proceed: — for in the 
latter case, the spirit of the sentiment, however 
true, might not be so easily reducible to practice. 
— It is a truth, that man should not render ac- 

* Inaug. Disc. p. 47. 

A 2 



count to man for his belief: — and, in as far as this 
is meant to express the grand principle of uni- 
"versal toleration, there is no length to which I 
would not cheerfully go along with its eloquent 
and powerful advocate: the very word tolera- 
tion, (seeing a right to tolerate supposes the 
existence of a corresponding right to restrain 
and to coerce) being a term, which, in such an 
application of it, no language ought to retain. 
Men should be as free to think, as they are free 
to breathe. I make no exceptions. Let truth 
defend herself ; and defend herself by her own 
legitimate means. She is well able to do so ; 
nor does she stand in need of any auxiliary 
methods, beyond those of fair argument, and 
rational persuasion. Give her an open field, 
and the free use of her weapons, and she will 
stand her ground. Legal restraint and sup- 
pression have invariably had the effect of giving 
tenfold prevalence to the dreaded error; and 
measures of coercion, whilst they have made hypo- 
crites by thousands, have never made, and never 
can make, one genuine convert to her cause. 

Most heartily also do we concur with the 
eloquent orator in the full spirit of what he re- 
presents as the practical use of his principle, in 
regulating the reciprocal conduct of men, in the 
intercourse of social life :— -" Henceforward, 
" treating with entire respect those who con- 



" scientiously differ from ourselves, the only 
" practical effect of the difference will be, to 
" make us enlighten the ignorance, on one side 
" or the other, from which it springs, — by in- 
" structing therriy if it be theirs, — ourselves, if it 
" be our own ; to the end, that the only kind 
" of unanimity may be produced, which is de- 
" sirable among rational beings, — the agree- 
" ment proceeding from full conviction after 
" the freest discussion."* 

But there is what 1 conceive to be an error of 
no trivial magnitude, lurking (shall I say ?) 
amidst these salutary truths. No : it does not 
lurk. Whether an error or not, it is not con- 
cealed. It is palpable, avowed, prominent : and 
the very accompaniments of truth with which 
it is attended, serve to render it the more in- 
sinuating and dangerous. As persecution for 
conscience' sake is the subject of the entire pas- 
sage in which the offensive sentences stand, we 
are warranted in conceiving that it is to religious 
opinions and belief that the speaker more espe- 
cially, perhaps I might say exclusively, refers. 
Now the matter, as it appears to me, stands 
thus. If it be indeed true, as is here, without 
qualification, assumed and asserted, that " coin- 
cidences and diversities of opinion are altogether 
accidental and involuntary," — that " over his 

* Inaug. Disc. p. 48. 



belief a man has no control," any more than he 
has over " the hue of his skin, or the height of 
his stature," — and that for his behef, whatever 
it may be, a man is no more the proper subject 
of praise or of blame, than he is for a light or a 
dark complexion, or for the dimensions of his 
corporeal frame : — if, I say, these things be so, 
then it follows, — not merely that man should 
not account to man for his belief, — but also, and 
with equal certainty, that man has no account 
to render for his belief to God. There is no 
moral responsibility connected with it. We 
never think of associating any such responsibili- 
ty with colour, or with stature; and if the two 
cases be really parallel, neither should we, in 
any circumstances, associate it with opinions 
or belief. 

Now it is precisely here, that we conceive the 
mischievous error to lye. We dare not hesitate 
to say, that between this sentiment and the most 
explicit statements and uniform assumptions of 
the Bible, there is a perfect contrariety. Our 
orator and the inspired penmen are quite at is- 
sue. It is impossible for any one to receive the 
doctrine now promulgated by the former, as the 
" great truth that has" at length happily " gone 
" forth to all the ends of the earth," without re- 
nouncing the authority of the latter, whose com- 
mission was to proclaim *' to all the ends of the 



9 

earth" a message of a far different tenor. 
When the apostles announced their testimony, 
in the name of the God of truth, they knew 
nothing of that philosophy which would now 
release men from the obligation to give it a be- 
lieving reception, and exculpate them from all 
guilt in the refusal of it. When they " went in- 
to all the world, and preached the gospel to 
every creature," they subjoined the authorita- 
tive assurance, " He that believeth shall be 
saved, and he that believeth not shall be con- 
demned." According to their declarations, the 
difference between faith and unbelief was of no 
trivial import. It was all the difference between 
safety and destruction, between the blessing and 
the curse of God, between heaven and hell. 
We do not find them saying to their hearers, — 
" We are aware that you have no control over 
your belief 5 that it is a thing altogether involun- 
tary; that your believing or not believing what 
we testify can therefore have no influence what- 
soever upon your prospects of retribution as 
accountable creatures,— -for it is as unconnected 
with your will, as is the hue of your skin or the 
height of your stature. We recommend our tes- 
timony to you, knowing it to be from God, and 
persuaded of its beneficial tendency: — but, if 
the evidence we set before you of its truth does 
not produce conviction in your minds, we are 

A 4 



10 

far from meaning to insinuate that on this ac- 
count it will fare at all the worse with you in 
the end," — They proceeded, as you all know, 
on no such principles ; — but, in direct and un- 
qualified terms, connected salvation with the ac- 
ceptance of their message, and perdition with its 
refusal. 

That this was the simple matter of fact, I 
may show a little more fully from the inspired 
record by and by. — But before proceeding fur- 
ther with the scripture argument, I may be al- 
lowed to observe, that the principle so unquali- 
fiedly laid down is as inconsistent with the true 
philosophy of the human mind, and with the 
numberless and obvious facts of every-day ex- 
perience, as it is with the dictates and implica- 
tions of holy writ — Is there, I would ask, no 
reciprocally influential connection between the 
understanding and the affections ? and more 
especially, has the state of the latter no influence 
upon the exercise of the former? Who that 
knows any thing of even the most ordinary phe- 
nomena of human nature, — ^phenomena which, 
so far from being recondite, are open to every 
one's observation, — ^is not aware how mighty is 
the power of the desires and inclinations over 
the operations of intellect ? — to what a vast ex- 
tent, both in the number of instances and in the 
degree of force, opinion and belief are affected 



11 

by predisposition, — ^by the previous bent of the 
will ? The thing is notorious — proverbially no- 
torious ; — the bhndness produced by the want of 
will to see, being pronounced by proverb, which 
embodies the authority of experience, the most 
inveterate and hopeless of all. — I speak, of 
course, of human nature, according to the ap- 
pearances which it now presents. The question 
is not, whether what I now describe be a regu- 
lar and healthy, or a disordered and morbid 
exercise of its powers and functions, — but sim- 
ply, whether the fact be or be not as I have 
stated it : — not what was originally the case, — 
or even, whether the case ever was otherwise, — 
but what is actually the case now ? And as to 
this, it is impossible to hesitate. 

I do not, for my own part, entertain a doubt, 
but that at the very moment when the sentiment 
under consideration was publicly uttered, there 
was a practical exemplification furnished of the 
truth of the observation just made concerning 
it, — an experimental refutation of its principle. 
—At the time of its being delivered, it was 
generally and loudly applauded. There might 
possibly be not a few, especially of the junior 
part of the auditory, who swelled the noisy ac- 
clamation, as they are ever ready to do, without 
well knowing why : — there might be some, too, 
who gave it their instant and hearty sanction. 



because of the decided reprobation which it 
involved of all religious intolerance, without, at 
the moment of excited enthusiasm, adverting to 
its other bearings. But the question I would 
now ask, is, Was there, in the mind of no one 
present, an existing predisposition to receive it ? 
Were there none, with whom it was likely be- 
forehand to prove a favourite sentiment, — a sen- 
timent which they would be eager to catch at, 
and fond to retain ? Was there no thoughtless 
man of the world there, — was there no incon- 
siderate sceptic there, — who felt inwardly pleas- 
ed with the sentiment, as one on which his 
mind could repose, in an easy and self-compla- 
cent quietude? Were there none, in a word, 
(whatsoever might be the inward spring from 
which the feeling arose) who were gratified with 
the idea, that they might think and believe even 
as it chanced to them, without being responsi- 
ble, — without incurring, for their opinions or 
their faith, any. charge of moral delinquency, 
more than for the stature or the complexion 
which nature or circumstances might happen to 
have given them ? — If in a single bosom present 
there existed such a predisposition, — a readiness 
to catch at what was uttered, and to be easily 
persuaded of its truth, — a wish, however secret, 
that it might be as the speaker represented it : 
-^then there was in that bosom a refutation of 



18 

the sentiment ; — for there was one instance at 
least (and if one, there might be many) of the 
understanding being influenced by the heart, — 
of the opinions and behef being modified by the 
incHnations. 

Who, indeed, is there, who has not had the 
experience, how comparatively easy a task it is 
to convince a man by argument, when inclina» 
tion has been first gained over ; — and how hard 
and hopeless the attempt to satisfy him, when 
the will is in opposition ? — how light the assault 
required to storm the citadel of the understand- 
ing, when the affections and desires have once 
capitulated ; and how desperate the resistance, 
how determined and pertinacious the holding- 
out, when the heart is hostile to the offered pro- 
posals, or to the grounds, however just and un- 
exceptionable, on which they are presented? — 
<« Why do ye not understand my speech ?" said 
Jesus to the Jews — " even because ye cannot 
hear" (that is, ye cannot hear) " my words." — 
No where, indeed, are illustrations to be found 
of the truth of the remarks I am now making, 
more striking and more humbling, than in our 
Saviour's intercourse with his unbelieving coun- 
trymen, during his public ministry. That he was 
the Christ, was attested by proofs without num- 
ber, of which every one was by itself conclusive. 
But all their deeply rooted prejudices, all their 



14 

fondly cherished expectations, all their eager 
wishes and desires, (the wishes and desires of an 
unrenewed and worldly spirit) were against the 
admission of this truth. The consequence was, 
that to the force of evidence, though clear as 
the light of the meridian sun, they continued 
obstinately blind. Every additional proof served 
only to rouse up their enmity, and inflame their 
rage ; producing and maintaining that state of 
mind, a more intolerable than which it is not 
easy to imagine, where there is war between 
the heart and judgment ; — where there is hatred 
of the truth in the former, and a powerful wit- 
ness to it in the latter, and a consequent agoniz- 
ing conflict between aversion on the one part, 
and secret, unacknowledged, resisted conviction 
on the other ; — where, in a word, the man is 
" divided against himself." — Evidence, in these 
circumstances, cannot be endured. Every at- 
tempt is made to refute and to discredit it ; and 
when such attempts fail, violence, both of words 
and conduct, is brought to the aid of deficient 
and bafiled argument. — The account of the 
blind man, in the ninth chapter of the gospel by 
John, presents a highly interesting and instruc- 
tive exemplification of this unhappy state of 
mind. The Pharisees first of all do what they 
can to disparage the character of Jesus, and to 
^x upon it, in the public mind, the stigma of 



15 

impiety : — their next endeavours are, to discre- 
dit and disprove the miracle, — an increasing 
irritabihty evincing itself as the examination of 
the case proceeds, and as it gradually opens in 
a manner so contrary to their wishes : — till at 
length, being fully confronted by the poor beg- 
gar himself, with all the simplicity and force of 
truth, opposed to the inconsistency and chi- 
canery of error ; they feel their ground untena- 
ble ; they can stand it no longer ; they cease to 
argue, though they do not yield to conviction ; 
defeated in argument, they have recourse to 
power ; they assume the portly attitude of in- 
censed superiority ; they revile, and scold, and 
thunder the anathemas of excommunication 
against their innocent and helpless victim. 

Now, we must lay it down as a position which 
will not admit of controversy, that in as far as 
opinions are thus influenced by disposition^ — 
belief, by inclination, — the decisions of the under- 
standing by the state of the heart, — they are fair 
and legitimate subjects o^ moral responsibility, — 
There may, in this view of the matter, be no 
absurdity in affirming, that moral evil may at- 
tach to an opinion, — virtue or vice, to belief 
or unbelief, — and a just imputation of sin to an 
intellectual decision. I hesitate not to say, that 
even in the ordinary every-day concerns of life, 
this influence of the heart upon the understand- 



16 

iiig, of inclination upon opinion and belief, has 
place, though in greater and less degrees, in an 
immense preponderance of instances ; in not a 
few of them, I readily grant, in consequence of 
our natural unwillingness to believe it, (another 
modification of the very same tendency) with 
hardly any perception or consciousness of it on 
the part of him by whom it is exemplified.— 
And on the subject of religion, to which alone 
our present inquiry relates, the authority of 
scripture unites with observation and experience 
in convincing me, that there is no exception ; 
that the moral influence of which I speak is uni- 
versal ; none being exempt from it, although the 
degrees may be various of its natural and acquired 
force. I dare not qualify this statement. Believ- 
ing the divine testimony, — the testimony of un- 
erring omniscience, which, to every unprejudiced 
obse|:*ver, must appear in full accordance with 
facts, — respecting the natural ungodliness of the 
human heart, — its tendencies to forget the Most 
High, to ** depart from the fountain of living 
water, and to hew out for itself broken cisterns 
that can hold no water," — its love of sin and 
aversion to holiness, — its froward self-will and 
impatience of the restraints of authority, — its 
fondness for all that gratifies its pride, and its 
disrelish of all that is humbling, — believing this 
verdict on the character of human nature, I 



17 

cannot but hold the conviction, that in the 
bosom of every son and daughter of Adam there 
exists a predisposition against the gospel, — = 
against the truth of God, and the God of truth, 
— against the Lord, and against his Christ. 

By some, I am aware, the eloquent propound- 
erof the sentiment under discussion, is conceived 
to have meant no more by it, than the trite and 
common maxim, that e'oery marl's faith depends 
upon his country and his parentage, — that every 
person mil he "what he is taught and trained to 
be, — a Mahometan, a Pagan, or a Christian ; 
and that, this being the case, no man can be ac- 
countable for the place of his birth, or the circum- 
stances of his education.— i can hardly imagine, 
that such a man would announce an opinion so 
old and so ordinary, with so much of the pomp 
of recent discovery, and the emphasis of pre- 
eminent importance. But let me suppose this 
his meaning: — I would answer, without enter- 
ing at large into the various questions connected 
with the opinion — 

In the first place. Granting its general truth, 
(and it would be foolish to dispute it,) it surely 
cannot be considered as in the least degree in- 
validating the obligation to examine the evi- 
dences of what is presented to us as a communi- 
cation from Deity, — to weigh the grounds of its 
claim to our acceptance. This obligation lies 



18 

imperatively on all, without exception, to whom 
such a record comes. And then the simple 
question, connected with our present subject, 
comes to be, precisely what has been already 
stated — whether there be, or be not, in the state 
and character of the human heart in general, or 
of the heart of the individual in particular, any 
thing that predisposes either Jbr or against it, 
and that thus goes to bias the mind in the exam- 
ination of its evidence, and in the denial or ac- 
knowledgment of its truth. 

Secondly : The manner in which the opinion 
is stated, — so exceedingly vague and undefined 
in the meaning of its terms, — only serves to dis- 
cover the sadly inadequate and erroneous con- 
ceptions, so extensively prevalent, of what it is 
to he a christian ; — conceptions, which form not 
the least of the unavoidable and pernicious 
effects of the nationalizing of Christianity,— by 
which the designation christian, from having 
been a definite term of spiritual character, dis- 
tinguishing the few from the many, has degen- 
erated into a mere line of geographical partition \ 
or a shade of colouring, by which, in a map, one 
region of the globe is marked off* from another, 
— It is perfectly true, that men may be, — that 
they are most likely to be, — or, put it as strong- 
ly as you please, that they certainly will be, 
christians in this sense, according to their coun- 



t9 

try or their parentage, in the same manner as 
they would be Hindoos or Mussulmen. But 
that every one who is born of christian parents, 
and taught christian truth, will be a christian in 
the true scriptural acceptation of the name, is a 
far different proposition, — -a proposition as cer- 
tainly false, as the other is true. Every truly 
christian parent feels and laments the difficulty, 
of instilling the truths of God so as to procure 
for them a cordial acceptance, — and to bring 
the affections, passions, and desires under the 
regimen of the principles of spiritual and vital 
Christianity. The whole process of really chris- 
tian education develops to such parents the 
strength of the hostile predisposition, and im- 
presses the necessity of an influence superior to 
parental for effectually overcoming it. 

By others, the sentiment of which I have 
ventured thus to express my disapproval, has 
been understood as amounting to no more than 
the metaphysical axiom, that belief must necessa- 
rily correspond with the perception of evidence, it 
being in the nature of the thing impossible that 
the mind should believe, or disbelieve, otherwise 
than as evidence is, or is not, discerned, — Now I 
am far from intending to question the soundness 
of this axiom. It is quite entitled to the designa- 
tion, being a self-evident and indisputable truth. 
But this admission does not, in the smallest de- 



so 

gree, aiiect our conclusion as to moral responsi- 
bility; for one very obvious reason,~that it is 
precisely on this point, the perception of evi- 
dence, that the predisposing causes referred to 
are apt most powerfully to operate. That in the 
examination of any question, the perceptions of 
the mind are afiected by the previous state of 
the inclinations, both in the discernment of the 
bearings of proof, and in appreciating the value 
of its different items, is, as I have before ob- 
served, true even to a proverb. It is so certain, 
so universally understood and admitted, that 
writers on the constitution of the mind, and on 
moral evidence, insist on the necessity and im- 
portance of guarding against such sources of 
biassing prepossession, — those idols, — (to use 
the designation given them by Lord Bacon) — - 
which entice the mind from an uncorrupted 
homage to truth. — To use a familiar illustra- 
tion :-— how very often, when we hear a person 
say of a proposition that seems exceedingly 
plain — " I cannot see that," — do we find that 
there is some consideration of interest, in one or 
other of its endless varieties, that prevents him. 
His mental vision is thus obscured, or distorted. 
There is a mote in his eye. He cannot see, sim- 
ply because he is unwilling to see. 

Before proceeding to the direct illustration of 
the text, in which a predisposition against the 



m 

truth of God revealed in the gospel is so strong- 
ly and generally asserted, I wish to offer one ad- 
ditional observation.— I would not make the 
eminent person whose sentiment has been the 
subject of comment, responsible for more , than 
lies justly to his charge. Now there is a class of 
persons who may be fond enough to lay hold of 
his principle, but who lay hold of it unfairly, and 
for whose conduct it can afford neither cover 
nor palliation. What his own practice may 
have been in regard to the Bible, I know not. 
For ought I can tell, he may have examined its 
contents and its evidences, — or he may not. I 
have to do at present only with his words as 
they stand before me: — and here I find him de- 
claring, " the only unanimity desirable among 
" rational creatures'' to be " the agreement pro- 
^' ceeding from full conviction after the freest dis- 
" cussion,*' 

The behef or the unbelief, then, which, accord- 
ing to that statement of his views by which our 
censures must be limited, is considered as ex- 
empt from moral imputation, is a behef or an 
unbelief preceded hy examination of evidence, — 
Whatever, indeed, may be thought of belief or 
unbelief, in themselves, it can never be ques- 
tioned, that there may be a contraction of guilt 
by the refusal or the neglect to attend to evi- 
dence. The degree of this guilt must be in 

B2 



m 

proportion to the intrinsic magnitude of the sub- 
ject, — the authority under which it presents 
itself, — and the importance of the consequences 
depending on the determination of the question 
at issue. — Now there is a host of unthinking 
sceptics, — of uninquiring infidels, — to whom the 
sentiment I have been combating, were it ever 
so true, can be of no avail. It affords them no 
shelter. It yields no apology, no palliation of 
their conduct. It supposes consideration ; but 
they have not considered; — ^it assumes examina- 
tion ; but they have not examined. Whether 
belief be voluntary or involuntary, there can be 
nothing but what is wilful in the neglect or re- 
fusal to attend and to inquire. It admits of no 
excuse, no extenuation. Investigation is duty ; 
and every thing concurs to aggravate the crim- 
inality of neglecting it. The subjects are of 
unutterable magnitude ; — the authority is the 
highest that any doctrine can claim ; — and the 
consequences are the most momentous that can 
possibly await the issue of any inquiry. On 
such a subject, not only is investigation imperi- 
ously demanded, but no light, partial, superficial 
inquiry will discharge the obligation. It must 
be earnest, persevering, full. No source of evi- 
dence that is accessible should be left unex- 
plored. A revelation from our God must be 
desirable, — supremely desirable. I will not rea- 



m 



son with a fellow-creature that can question 
this. His intellect must be disordered ; and dis- 
ordered, there is reason more than to fear, by 
the power of a perverted conscience and a vi- 
tiated heart. And in proportion as such a 
revelation is desirable, should the importance be 
felt of our not being deceived, — of our neither 
being, on the one hand, the dupes of a witless 
credulity, nor the victims, on the other, of an 
incredulous obstinacy. O how inexpressible the 
folly and the impiety of the man, who has in his 
hand what professes to be a communication from 
the Sovereign and Judge of all, and who does 
not think it worth his while either to acquaint 
himself with its contents, or to inquire into its 
authority! Here surely, if anywhere, there is 
guilt without apology. The conduct that in- 
curs it is neither accidental, nor iniooluntarj/, nor 
a matter over which there can be no control. It 
is, in all respects, wilful; and therefore, on no 
just principle, capable of vindication. 

The declaration in the second part of the 18th 
verse — " he that believeth not is condemned 
already, because he hath not believed in the 
name of the only begotten Son of God" — is sus- 
ceptible of two interpretations : — 

1 . Men are guilty, as having transgressed the 
divine law, They lie under a sentence of con- 

B 3 



^24 

demnation ; that law having the expUcit sanction 
annexed to it, — " Cursed is every one that con- 
tin ueth not in all things written in the book of 
the law to do them/' The declaration, there- 
fore, in this part of the text, when taken bj 
itself, might simply mean, that in consequence of 
their not believing in Christ, the guilt of a vio- 
lated law still stands to their account. They re- 
main under the sentence, and exposed to the 
penalty, as the unavoidable result of their ne- 
glecting or refusing the only means of deliver- 
ance. In this sense, unbeHef is not the ground 
of their condemnation, — but only the occasion 
of their remaining condemyied on another ground. 
^. It may express the sentiment, that unbe- 
lief itself is a sin, by which guilt is contracted, 
and condemnation incurred; — that "he that be- 
lieveth not is condemned," not merely m conse- 
quence of his unbelief, but expressly on account 
of it. — That this latter is the principal meaning 
of the words, (although not of course to the ex- 
clusion of the other, which is inseparably con- 
nected with it) is evident from the terms of the 
19th verse, — which is explanatory of the state- 
ment in the 18th, and a vindication of it from 
every imputation of severity or injustice: — 
" And THIS is the condemnation, that light is 
come into the world, and men have lov ed daik- 
ness rather than light, because their deeds were 



evil.** — In these words there is no room fbi' diver 
sity of explanation. Unbeliefi or the rejection of 
the gospel, is niost unequivocally and strongly 
affirmed to have its origin in the love of evil in 
the human heart, in one or other of its many 
varieties. The whole verse may be considered 
as a commentary on the apostolic phrase, — " an 
evil heart ofmibeliefJ'^ 

The " deeds being evil" is a phrase, which 
must not be restricted, in its application, to the 
openly wicked, to the notoriously and active- 
ly profligate. These are the characters, of 
whom people in general, when they hear such 
expressions, are apt to think. But the word 
** deeds^' must here be understood inclusively of 
evil desires and affections^ as well as of w^hat are 
more properly denominated mnorks — of every 
principle, in short, from which disrelish of di- 
vine truth may be conceived to arise. In con- 
firmation of this, it may be observed, that Paul 
enumerates amongst " the tt^or/a of the flesh," 
not only wicked actions, but such evil tempers 
as " hatred," " wrath," and *' envy."* — It is 
obvious, indeed, that, as outward actions are 
only indications of inward principles, it is not to 
the actions, but to the principles, that we must 
trace the dislike of whatever interferes with 
their indulgence. It is the principles that con» 

* Gal. T, 19_2J. 
B 4 



stitute the character ; the actions are only the 
manifestation of it to others. 

The clear affirination of the text, then, is, 
tljat all unbelief of the gospel has a moral cause, 
and that that cause is evil The language is so 
unequivocal and decisive, that I might safely 
rest the scriptural authority of the sentiment on 
this passage alone. It may not.be amiss, how- 
ever, to adduce a few additional proofs, from 
the Bible, of unbelief being held and treated by 
its Divine Author as a sin, — as involving guilt, 
and incurring condemnation. 

In the Jirst place, I may refer, in evidence, 
to the calls and invitations, with which the scrip- 
tures abound, to receive the gospel as the testi- 
mony of God, and to accept its offered blessings. 
• — Such calls and invitations, of which it is need- 
less to quote examples, must come with authori- 
ty. They must carry with them an obligation 
to compliance. Coming from the God of 
heaven, they cannot be supposed to leave the 
sinner, who has heard and has refused them, in 
the very same state in which he previously had 
been, — with no additional charge in the account 
he has to render. It is altogether inconceiva- 
ble, that God himself should invite to the ac- 
ceptance of favours, which his creatures, to 
whom the offer is made, are at liberty innocently 
to decline. 



27 

But secondly: The Bible does not confine it- 
self to calls and invitations : — the acceptance of 
the gospel testimony is matter of explicit com- 
mand : — *' This is his commandment y that we be- 
lieve on the name of his Son, Jesus Christ our 
Lord."* — Although, then, in one view, every 
call and invitation of God must contain in it the 
essence and force of a command ; yet here is 
something still more express. The gospel is a 
divine institute, as much as any legal order or 
prescription. It declares the dimne mil as to the 
way in which men are to be saved ; and it has 
all the force of law. It is called, in contradis- 
tinction from the " law of works,'' the " law of 
faith." The former is that original constitution 
of things, according to which man, as a crea- 
turCy held life on the ground of his own 
obedience, or works: — the latter is that new 
constitution, to which the violation of the for- 
mer has given rise, and according to which man, 
as a sinner, is accepted through faith in the 
merits of another. Both are alike divine, and 
have the sanction of the same authority. The 
latter is as really the law of God in regard to 
sinful man, as the former was his law in regard 
to man in innocence: and the refusal of the tes- 
timony and offers of the gospel is as direct a 
trespass against the new constitution, as the 

* 1 John iii. 23. 



28 

eating of the forbidden fruit was a transgression 
of the old. — On what principle 2i command to he- 
lieve proceeds, will afterwards be considered : 
the present point is, to show that there is such 
a command. 

I may notice, thirdly/, in close connection with 
the preceding particular, that Jaith is sometimes 
spoken of as obedience, — " They have not all 
obeyed the gospel ; for Esaias saith. Lord, who 
h^iih. believed our report?" — " A great company 
of the priests were obedient to the faith." The 
mystery of the gospel, revealed through the 
-apostles, ** is made known to all nations for the 
obedience of faith,''* — I am aware that, in such 
passages, obeying includes more than believing. 
It includes a giving up of the heart to the in- 
fluence of the truth believed, — ^yielding to its 
holy power and tendencies, — not thinking only, 
but feeling and acting, according to it : " God 
be thanked, that ye were the servants of sin ; 
but ye have obeyed from the heart that form of 
doctrine which was delivered you." But still, 
the " belief of the truth," yielding to the force 
of its evidence, and receiving it as from God, is 
without doubt the frst thing expressed by such 
phraseology. God is obeyed, when his testi- 
mony is beliemd ; and all by whom it is refused 
are ranked among the ^//^obedient. 

^ Rom. X. 10. Acts vi. 7. lioin, xvi. 26= 



29 

This will be still more apparent, when we have 
noticed^ Jour thl^, the explicit declarations of the 
shrfulness of unbelief and the annexation to it of 
a sentence of condemnation. — The text itself, as I 
have before stated, is a most unequivocal in- 
stance of this. And the following are in har- 
mony with it : — " When He (the Holy Spirit) is 
come, he will convince the w^orld of sin, of right- 
eousness, and of judgment : — of sin^ because 
they believe not on me ;" — " Go ye into all the 
world, and preach the gospel to every creature. 
He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved ; 
lie that believeth not shall be condemned :^^ — -** He 
that believeth on the Son of God hath everlast- 
ing life ; he that believeth not the Son shall not 
see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him:" 
— " He that believeth on the Son of God hath 
the witness in himself; he that believeth not 
God, hath made him a liar," (no light or venial 
guilt surely) " because he hath not believed the 
record that God gave of his Son:" — *' The 
Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven, with 
his mighty angels, in flaming fire, taking ven- 
geance on them that know not God, and that 
obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ ; 
who shall be punished with everlasting destruc- 
tion from the presence of the Lord, and from 
the glory of his powder ; when he shall come to 
be glorified in his saints, and to be admired in 



30 

all them that believe ^ (because our testimony 
among you was believed) in that day."* 

Such passages as these must mean something 
more than that in consequence of men's not be- 
lieving, or avaiUng themselves of the means of 
pardon, their sins, consisting of violations of the 
divine law, remain unforgiven : they clearly and 
strongly teach us, that unbelief itself is one 
of the sins, on account of which perdition comes 
upon the unbeliever. The following powerful 
and striking expostulation from the book of 
proverbs may be added to the passages already 
cited. It is not less persuasive and touching 
from the earnestness of pity which it breathes, 
than it is instructive and profitable as a decisive 
intimation of truth : — *' Wisdom crieth without ; 
she uttereth her voice in the streets ; she crieth 
in the chief places of concourse, in the open- 
ings of the gates : in the city she uttereth her 
words, saying. How long, ye simple ones, will 
ye love simplicity ? and the scorners delight in 
their scorning, and fools hate knowledge? Turn 
ye at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my 
Spirit unto you, I will make known my words 
unto you. Because I have called, and ye re- 
fused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no 
man regarded; but ye have set at nought all my 

* John xvi. 8, 9. Mark xvi. 15, 16. John iii. 36. 
1 John V. 10. 2 Thess. i. 7—10. 



31 

counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also 
will laugh at your calamity ; I will mock when 
your fear cometh; when your fear cometh as 
desolation, and your destruction cometh as a 
whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh 
upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but 
I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but 
they shall not find me : for that they hated 
knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the 
Lord : they would none of my counsel : they 
despised all my reproof: therefore shall they 
eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled 
with their own devices. For the turning away 
of the simple shall slay them, and the prosperi- 
ty of fools shall destroy them. But whoso 
hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall 
be quiet from fear of evil."* 

This passage expresses, as plainly as the text 
does, the moral cause of the refusal of sinners to 
listen to the voice of heavenly wisdom: — they 
" love their simpHcity ;'' they " delight in their 
scorning; they ^' hate knowledge;" they ''do 
not choose the fear of the Lord." This is the 
same thing as ** loving darkness rather than 
light, because their deeds are evil." 

Having thus shown you very briefly the hght 
in which unbelief is placed in the scriptures ; — 

* Prov. i. 20—33. 



8^2 

having adduced evidence, to which, were it ne- 
cessary, much more might be added, that, so 
far from being " held guiltless*' as the hue of 
the skin or the height of the stature, it is con- 
demned as sinful, and threatened with punitive 
retribution ; — we now go on to consider the 
grounds on which it is so regarded, and to vin- 
dicate the righteousness of the Divine proce- 
dure. 

In entering on this part of my subject, I must 
begin by stating a distinction, which is suf- 
ficiently obvious, and yet too frequently lost 
sight of; that namely, between the sovereignty 
and the equity of the Divine administration. — 
Sovereignty is simply " the good pleasure of 
God's will," by which he is left at full liberty 
to do towards his creatures whatever is not 
inconsistent with equity. Equity is exercised 
in giving every one his due ; and what is due in 
equity cannot be withheld in sovereignty. In 
regard to all that is good, sovereignty may go 
beyond what is due, but cannot, without a vio- 
lation of the claims of equity, keep within it. 
As to the infliction of m/, it comes not at all 
within the province of sovereignty ; it belongs 
exclusively to that of equity. The sovereign 
infliction of evil is an anomaly, that can have no 
place under the righteous government of God. 
Sovereignty has to do only with the hestowment 

13 



33 



of good. This is its proper department: and 
here its freedom is without restriction ; its 
range of beneficence without Hmits. Equity 
can neither withhold deserved good, nor visit 
with undeserved evil : — sovereignty may both 
suspend deserved evil, and confer undeserved 
good. With regard to creatures, then, that 
have sinned and are guilty, there may be a 
sovereign determination to bless and to save : 
but there can be no sovereign determination to 
curse and to damn. The curse and damna- 
tion are the result, in every case, not of sove- 
reignty, but of equity. There is a decree of 
salvation ; and from the nature of the thing 
that decree must he sovereign. In nothing else 
than sovereignty, or Divine good pleasure, can 
it have its origin : for those for whose salvation 
it provides are such as, in equity, deserve to 
perish. But there is no sovereign decree of 
reprobation and perdition. The sole determina- 
tion, on this side of the alternative, is the 
determination of equity to punish sin. Salva- 
tion is the result of a purpose of sovereignty j 
damnation is the fulfilment of a sentence of 
equity. The former presupposes un worthiness; 
the latter, desert. Merited salvation, and un- 
merited perdition, are ideas alike incongruous 
and contradictory. 

On these principles, if unbelief infers guilt 



34 

and condemnation, it must be regarded as, in 
the principle from which it arises, involving 
some description of moral turpitude. The sen- 
tence is not pronounced, nor the punishment 
inflicted, in arbitrary vindictiveness. " The 
righteous Lord, who loveth righteousness," must 
see ground in equity for both. There is no- 
thing, we may be assured, more arbitrary in 
the punishment of unbelief of Divine truth, 
than in the punishment of any transgression of 
the Divine law. The one is as much a matter 
of equity as the other. If unbelief involved no 
moral delinquency, on no principle of justice 
could its punishment be vindicated. 

I must now observe further, that there are 
three things which appear to be necessary to 
the guilt of unbelief: — these are, capacity of 
understandings opportunity of hio'wledge, and 
sufjiciency of evidence, — The absence of any one 
of these would nullify just responsibihty. 

Where there is a natural incapacity of under- 
standing, it is quite obvious that there can be 
no accountableness, no guilt. This is more 
than admitted, it is the sentiment distinctly ex- 
pressed, in the language of our Lord to the 
pharisees, after the cure of the blind beggar re- 
corded in the ninth chapter of the gospel 
according to John. " For judgment," said 
Jesus, " I am come into this world, that they 

13 



S5 

who see not might see, and that they who see 
might be made bUnd. And some of the Phari- 
sees who were with him heard these words, and 
said unto him. Are we Wind also ? Jesus said 
unto them, if ye were blind, ye should have 
NO sin: but now ye say. We see; therefore your 
sin remaineth." — Wliat these pharisees said of 
themselves was, in, two respects, true. They 
possessed natural faculties of discernment, 
powers of mental vision, in many of them acute 
and vigorous : — and they had the scriptures 
of the old Testament in their hands; they were 
not unacquainted with their contents ; and, as 
far as capacity of understanding went, they 
were quite capable of discerning the corres- 
pondence between the types, and predictions, 
and promises, which they contained, and all 
that they heard and saw^ in Jesus of Nazareth. 
" Therefore their sin remained.'' — But to dis- 
cuss the causes that prevented their discerning 
what their natural capacity fully qualified them 
to discover, would anticipate a subsequent part 
of our subject. * 

* The particular ^thus briefly touclied upon disposes of aU cases of 
idiocy and natural intellectual incapacity. In such cases, it must he 
obvious, there can be no responsibility. There is one apparent exception 
indeed — when the mental powers have been disordered in their exercise, 
and bereft of their energy, by moral causes, — by any description, for 
example, of dissipation and profligacy. But the exception, after all, is 
only apparent : for in such instances, the person's guilt does not properly 

C 



36 

The second thing mentioned as necessary to 
unbelief assuming a moral character, and be- 
coming chargeable with guilt, is as obviously 
essential as the first — opportunity of knowledge, — 
The unbelief condemned in the Bible is not that 
which arises from unavoidable or involuntary 
ignorance : — for this, indeed, cannot with pro- 
priety be denominated unbelief at all. No man 
can be said to disbelieve that which he has not 
the means of knowing ; that which, from what- 
ever circumstances, has never been brought 
before his mind. This, it is plain, can never 
be a legitimate ground of condemnation. The 
Bible condemns no man for not knowing what 
he never heard of, or for not believing what he 
could not know — for not obeying a law which 
was never promulgated to him, or not receiving 
a message which never reached his ears. No 
such thing. The principles of the Bible on this 
subject are those of the most unimpeachable 
equity. Ignorance is criminal, only when it 
arises from wilful inattention, or from aversion 
of heart to truth. Unbelief involves guilt, when 
it is the effect and manifestation of tlie same 
aversion, — of a want of will to that which is right 
and good. 

The necessity of the third thing mentioned to 

consist in his not exerting a capacity of which he is not possessed, but 
in his having, by his previous misconduct, deprived himself of that 
capacity. 



37 

the criminality of unbelief, namely sufficiency of 
evidence, may be confirmed by an appeal to the 
very highest authority, that of the Divine Au- 
thor of the gospel himself. Look to John xv. 
S2, S4. " If I had not come and spoken to 
them, they had not had sin ; but now they have 
no cloak for their sin. If I had not done among 
them the works which no other man did, they 
had not had sin ; but now have they both seen 
and hated both me and my Father." — In this 
passage, all the three particulars may be consid- 
ered as united ;— the second and third being 
expressly specified, and the first clearly presup- 
posed. The statement of the Saviour is, that, 
had they been without either means of know- 
ledge or sufficiency of proof, or, by obvious 
implication, natural capacity of apprehending 
the meaning and discerning the evidence of 
what was taught them, they should not have 
been chargeable with sin, in rejecting his claims, 
and denying his doctrine ; there would have 
been no guilt in their unbelief. 

But here a question comes in our way, of es- 
sential consequence in our present investigation 
— a turning point in the inquiry : — What is to 
be understood by sufficiency of evidence ? — Es- 
sential, however, as the question is, it is so only 
in some of its general principles. It is not ne- 
cessary that we take upon us (what would be far 
c 2 



38 

beyond our province as creatures) to specif)^, 
theoretically and a priori, the precise description 
and amount of evidence which the Divine Being 
should be required to furnish, as sufficient to 
establish, to the satisfaction of his intelligent 
creatures, a testimony from himself. Such prin- 
ciples as I shall now proceed very briefly to 
state, seem enough for our purpose. 

First of all, then, the principle itself already 
laid down, must be universally admitted as an 
obvious and incontrovertible one, — that a revela- 
tion which men are required to believe, and un- 
belief of which incurs condemnation and punish- 
ment, must be accompanied with evidence really 
sufficient of its Divine original. This, it is mani- 
fest, is the only ground on which a command to 
beHeve can legitimately rest, or a threatening of 
punishment to unbelief be susceptible of vindi- 
cation. — And this being granted, it is farther 
clear, that the Author of the testimony, (who is 
at the same time the author of our rational con- 
stitution, and who knows what is in man, and 
has a perfect discernment of the description of 
evidence which the nature of the case admits, 
and which the reason of the creature requires,) 
must have it in his power to produce such a 
proof as shall, in kind and in measure, be adapt- 
ed to both, and such therefore as shall be reason-^ 
ahly sufficient for the conviction of ewery one. 



39 

possessed of intellect, to whom it shall be pre- 
sented. 

But there is another general principle not less 
obvious than these, — that sicfficient evidence must 
not be understood to mean such evidence as 
shall infallibly constrain the believing assent of 
every individual. When the subject is a physi- 
cal force, applied for the accomplishment of a 
physical purpose,- — the raising of a weight for 
instance, or the removal of an obstacle ; — if the 
force have a direct and fair application, we judge 
of its sufficiency by its efficiency : — if the weight 
is not raised, if the obstacle does not give way, 
— the conclusion is, that the power is not suf- 
ficient. But it is not thus we must form our 
judgment on subjects of moral evidence. Such 
evidence, every discerning mind must at once 
perceive, may be fully sufficient, without being 
efficient. The want of efficacy may arise, not 
from any deficiency in the evidence, but from 
causes in the mind to which the evidence is pre- 
sented. If these causes consist in, or arise from, 
natural incapacity, they exonerate the party from 
blame-worthiness. But if they be of a moral 
kind, — if they are to be found in evil principles 
and passions in the heart, blinding the under- 
standing, perverting truth, and resisting evi- 
dence j the guilt contracted, whether the unbe- 
liever be himself sensible of it or not, mav be 

C3 



40 

very deep. — In the physical analogy used above, 
it is assumed that the power employed has a di- 
rect and fair application. It is only on this sup- 
position that the conclusion of its insufficiency, 
from its failing to produce the effect, is legiti- 
mate. The position, or shape, or other circum- 
stances, of the weight or the obstacle, may in- 
terfere with the free contact and advantageous 
application of the power : — in which case its 
failure may be imputable, not to its intrinsic 
insufficiency, but to those untoward circum- 
stances. In a similar way, the character and 
situation of human minds may obstruct the 
legitimate operation of evidence upon them, 
and culpably hinder the admission of obnoxious 
truth. 

That there may be evidences and indications 
of truth which are in themselves sufficient, and 
which yet do not lead to the knowledge and 
conviction of it, may be satisfactorily shown 
from another department of Divine discovery. 
Respecting the manifestations of God in the 
works of nature as enjoyed by the heathen, the 
apostle Paul says, Rom. i. 20. " For the invisi- 
ble things of God, even his eternal power and 
godhead, are clearly seen from the creation of 
the world, being understood by the things that 
are made: so that they are without excuse." — It 
is, in these words, evidently assumed, or, rather. 



41 

explicitly asserted, that there are, in the works 
of creation, demonstrations sufficiently clear and 
convincing of the being and perfections of God : 
— so that, if men are not led to right views of 
these subjects, it is not for want of adequate 
manifestation or evidence of the truth. It is on 
this ground alone that the conclusion — " they 
are without excuse" can possibly be maintained. 
Their ignorance could not be inexcusable, were 
their means of knowledge not sufficient : — their 
failure to discover the truth would be blameless, 
in proportion as the sources of discovery were 
obscure or scanty. 

In the 28th verse of the same chapter, the 
cause is assigned, why the clear and multiplied 
evidences of the existence and attributes of God, 
which present themselves in creation and provi- 
dence, did not lead men to the right knowledge, 
and faith, and worship, of the One Supreme : — 
" They did not like to retain God in their 
knowledge." This is the simple cause, then, 
why the knowledge of God was lost, that is con- 
veyed in his WORKS. There was no relish for 
the lesson, — no complacency in the discovery ; 
— it was not in unison with the tendencies of 
man's fallen nature. The knowledsje was orio^i- 
nally possessed. It did not require, therefore, to 
be discovered, but only to be remembered. Yet 
with every possible advantage for its being re- 

c-t 



42 

tained, it was, notwithstanding, lost : ancj, in the 
passage of scripture I have just referred to, the 
loss is expressly ascribed to a moral cause. 

If these things be so, might we not reasonably 
expect, that the same'cause should operate in a 
similar way, in regard to the knowledge of God 
communicated in his word ? That it does so 
operate, is precisely what our text affirms. There 
is a perfect coincidence between the statement 
of the apostle respecting the knowledge imparted 
by nature and tradition, and that of our Lord 
respecting the discoveries of the gospel. When 
the one says, " They did not like to retain God 
in their knowledge,'* — and the other, " Light is 
come into the world, and men have loved dark- 
ness rather than light, because their deeds were 
evil ;" there is an expression, in different terms, 
of the same principle, producing the same result. 
— The language of our Lord is without excep- 
tion, as to all who reject the gospel testimony. 
The grounds of this universality are afterwards 
to be considered. At present all that we notice 
is, the sameness of the cause assigned for the 
ignorance and rejection of the contents of both 
the volumes of divine discovery. 

This naturally leads me to observe, that of 
the un discerned and inefficacious evidence a 
great deal may be found to lye in the contents 
themselves of the rejected revelation. It is rea- 



43 

sonable, from analogy, to expect that this should 
be the case. If the impress of the Divine cha. 
racter is borne by the other works of God ; much 
more might Xve look for it here, — in a direct 
communication from himself of his mind and 
will. We might previously conclude, that its na- 
ture should indicate its origin ; — That it should 
be "its own witness." That multitudes to 
whom this revelation comes do not discern in it 
these traces of deity, is obviously no valid proof 
that it does not contain them. From the matter 
of fact which presents itself throughout the 
Heathen world, that men have failed to deduce 
right conceptions of God from the works of 
creation. Deists and sceptics do not think of 
drawing the inference that these works do not 
contain sufficient indications of his being and 
perfections. They maintain their sufficiency ; 
and on this very ground question the necessity 
of revelation. They speculate on the clearness 
and fulness of the lessons of nature ; showing, 
in the superiority of their speculations to those 
of philosophers who have not had their advan- 
tages, that they derive their unacknowledged 
light from the very revelation which they proud- 
ly disown. And yet, while they thus loftily and 
confidently speculate, the very same principles 
may be preventing them from discerning the 
marks of Deity in the Bible, that prevent the 
Heathen from discovering these marks in nature. 



44 



T% communications made in it may not be to 
their minds. They may not like them. — There 
is indeed the greater HkeUhood of this in the one 
ease than in the other, inasmuch as in the 
written revelation we Jook for more of the dis- 
covery of the moral perfections of God, than in 
the works of his hands. And it is these that 
are the more direct objects of human aversion. 
The others usually distinguished by the designa- 
tion of his natural attributes, are obnoxious to 
dislike, chiefly, perhaps I should say solely, in 
consequence of their connection with these. 
From this cause it not unfrequently happens, 
that when, in their minds or in their discourse, 
men can separate the two, we may hear a great 
deal of the language of seemingly devout eulogy 
of Deity, from the lips of those who, alas ! make 
it sadly manifest otherwise, that they have no 
spiritual taste for the excellences of 'his moral 
nature, — his purity and justice, and infinite se- 
paration from all evil. How many specimens 
of such commendation, — elegant sometimes, and 
sublime, and captivating,— -are furnished by the 
discourses of natural historians and philosophers ; 
— ^in which God appears as a wonderful artist 
and generous benefactor, incomparable in skill, 
transcendent in power, and inexhaustible in 
bounty ; — whilst to the very eulogists them- 
selves, the Bible views of his holiness and grace 
would prove insufferably offensive. 



45 

From all this, then, you will, I trust, be sensi- 
ble, that manifestation and emdence may be sttf- 

Jicient, and even supe'rfluous, and yet those to 
whom they are presented be neither enlightened 
nor convinced by them. The cause of the fail- 
ure may lye in themselves ; and it may be evil, — 
deeply evil, — and the just ground of condemna- 
tion. — It is admitted, that, to be a legitimate 
ground of moral responsibility, the unbelief must 
be affected by moral causes, and that it can in- 
volve guilt, only as springing from an evil heart. 
That in regard to the discoveries of the gospel, 
it must be influenced by such causes, is evident 
from the very nature of those discoveries. The 
gospel is not a merely speculative doctrine. It 
is not, in this respect, of the nature of abstract 
propositions, in geometry or metaphysics. It is, 
in its substance and tendency, moral. The very 

facts of the gospel may be truly denominated 
moral facts; inasmuch as they contain in them 
the display of the purest and most sublime moral 
principles, and the enforcement upon the con- 
science of the highest moral motives. Now, 
whatever is thus, in its nature and tendencies, 
moral, must either harmonize on the one hand, 
or conflict on the other, with the moral state of 
the heart. The latter, as we have seen, is per- 
emptorily affirmed, in the text and other parts of 
scripture, to be the case between the discoveries 
of the gospel and the principles and feelings of 



46 

the natural or unrenewed man. This opposition 
is, without exception or quaUfication, declared, 
by the lips of the gracious Author of the gospel 
himself, to be the cause of the rejection of his tes- 
timony : — and it now becomes my province, de- 
pending on Divine aid, to endeavour to make 
good the position, that all unbelief of the 

GOSPEL HAS ITS ORIGIN IN EVIL. 

Leaving, however, the establishment of this 
position to another discourse, I shall conclude 
the present by repeating, that such is the unequi- 
vocal affirmation of the scriptures. Now the 
word that contains the affirmation is proved to 
be Divine, by an immense accumulation of 
the most conclusive evidence. I therefore 
believe, that the God himself who searches the 
heart has declared unbelief to be a sin inferring 
the pains of hell. I am assuredly satisfied that 
this it cannot do, except as arising from an evil 
heart. It is not for me to enter into the heart's 
secrets. This is his prerogative. And if he 
who "knoweth all things'' has declared the 
source of unbelief to be evil, I might leave it 
with himself to convict the conscience of the 
truth of his own authoritative testimony. An 
attempt to prove it, however, may serve to detect 
some of the modes of prevaiHng self-deception ; 
and by undeceiving the self-deluded, to save 
their souls from death. 

12 



DISCOURSE II. 



John hi. 18, 19. 

*' He that helieveth on him is not condemned : but he that 
believeth not is condemned already, because he hath 
not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God, 
And this is the condemnation, that light is come into 
the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, 
because their deeds were eviU^ 

I NOW proceed, as proposed in the conclusion of 
the former discourse, to illustrate and prove the 
position, that all unbelief of the gospel has 

ITS ORIGIN IN evil. 

I have already more than once repeated the 
principle, so essential in this discussion, that, in 
order to unbelief being the subject of moral 
responsibility at all, it must have some connec- 
tion v^ith the exercise of the wiJl ; and that, to 
constitute it a ground of just condemnation, it 
must have its source in an evil heart. — There can 
be no reasonable question, that, if it does arise 
from such a source, the sentence against it is fair 
and righteous. The only remaining inquiry. 



48 

therefore, is, whether the position announced for 
proof be capable of establishment : — whether 
unbelief be, or be not, in all cases, the effect and 
indication of some morally evil principle. — This 
you will perceive, defines and limits our subject 
of investigation. The Bible, we have seen, 
affirms, frequently and exphcitly, that it is so ; 
and on this ground pronounces its damnatory 
sentence, — I might, as I noticed in closing last 
discourse, leave the matter here, in the assurance 
that God can bring home his own word to the 
conviction of every conscience, and constrain 
the unbelieving sinner to acknowledge its truth. 
— It may be of use, however, to vindicate the 
sentence 5 and in doing so, to detect and expose 
some of the various fallacies by which men are 
prevented from perceiving and owning it to be 
as the Bible has said. The heart has been pro- 
nounced, by Him who best knows it, " deceitful 
above all things ;*' and in thousands of ways, 
accordingly, does it successfully impose upon it- 
self. It is no proof of its being otherwise than 
the Bible represents it to be, that men are not 
sensible of it, but are disposed to question and 
to deny it. This may be only a manifestation of 
the heart's deceitfulness. It is of the very na- 
ture of depravity, to make the subject of it in- 
sensible of the extent to which it exists, and of 

the force with which it operates, in his own 

12 



49 

bosom. To impart sensibility to its existence 
and influence, is the very first step of the Holy 
Spirit's work in conversion : — he " convinces of 
sin." He gives the sinner to see his real cha- 
racter, and to feel deeply what before had never 
affected or troubled him. And it may be stated 
as a fact, which admits of no exceptions, that 
there never was an individual brought to the 
faith of " the gospel of the grace of God,'' who 
did not humbly acknowledge, whatever might 
be the notions he had previously entertained of 
himself, and of the causes of his unbelieving re- 
jection of it, that he had really been under the 
influence of an evil and self-deceived heart, — a 
heart at enmity with God, — a heart, of which it 
had been the very deceitfulness that had made 
him before think well. Such has been the uni- 
form admission of all who have believed in 
Christ, whatever may have been the variety 
(and that has been endless) of their former cha- 
racters. 

And this diversity of character amongst un- 
believers is still endless ; — admitting of, and ac- 
tually exemplifying, every modification of aspect, 
which principles and affections merely natural, 
in all their modes and measures of combination, 
can possibly assume. Yet, in assigning the 
causes of men's unbelief, we dare not abate or 
qualify the statement of the Bible, — that in every 



50 

one of these endlessly diversified cases, it has its 
origin in one or other of the varieties of an evil 
heart, — " a heart not right with God." 

I wish it to be distinctly understood, that, 
when I speak of unbelief, I mean unbelief of 
THE GOSPEL : — not ijvfidelity, in the ordinary ac- 
ceptation of the word ; — the open and avowed 
rejection of the Bible as a revelation from God. 
There are many, very many, alas ! who, though 
they are not infidels in this sense of the designa- 
tion ; — but, on the contrary, profess to believe 
the Bible to be the word of God, are yet la- 
mentably ignorant of that which it chiefly re- 
veals, or as far as they theoretically know, are 
decidedly opposed to it. — The Jews of our Lord's 
day, as we learn from his mode of addressing 
them, were unbelievers of this description. " Do 
not think," says he, " that I will accuse you to 
the Father : there is one that accuseth you, even 
Moses, in whom ye trust. For had ye believed 
Moses, ye would have believed me ; for he wrote 
of me. But if ye believe not his writings, how 
shall ye believe my words ?"* — What ! it might 
be asked, did the Jews not beheve in Moses ? 
In one sense, assuredly, they did. They believed 
himself to have had a Divine commission, and 
his "writings to possess divine authority. But 
they missed the substance of all that Moses wrote. 

* John V. 45—47. 



51 

" He wrote of me," says Christ " The testi- 
mony of Jesus was the spirit," both of the " pro- 
phecies" which he delivered, and of the entire 
system of ceremonial observances, which, under 
his mediation, was established amongst them. 
This they understood not. Under the influence 
of a perverse and worldly temper of mind, all 
that related to the Messiah was misinterpreted 
by them. They knew not and believed not in 
him, of whom Moses wrote as the Seed of the 
woman who was to bruise the head of the ser- 
pent ; as the Sfeed of Abraham, in whom all the 
families of the earth were to be blessed ; as the 
prophet, like unto himself, whom God was to 
raise up unto them from among their brethren, 
and to whom, under pain of divine vengeance, 
they were to hearken ; as the atoning High 
Priest, prefigured by Aaron in his pontifical 
glory ; and as the propitiatory sacrifice, typified 
by all the victims whose blood was ordered to be 
shed at the altar, and to be sprinkled within the 
veil. — There was a perfect correspondence be- 
tween the " writings^' of Moses, and the " words*' 
of Christ; so that the rejection of the latter show- 
ed their unbelief of the former. To *' believe 
Moses" meant, not merely to believe that his 
writings possessed Divine authority, but to be- 
lieve what those writings contained, according to 
its proper meaning and design. It is one thing 



52 

to believe the authority by which a messenger 
speaks, and quite another thing to believe the 
message which, by that authority, he delivers. 
The authority may be admitted, whilst a con- 
ception materially erroneous is formed of that 
which is declared ; and by this means, the sanc- 
tion of the authority may be attached to what is 
false and illusory. If, in such a case, the cause 
of the misapprehension were^found to lye in the 
unintelligible nature of the message, there could 
be nothing in it sinful : — ^but if it lye in the ca- 
pricious perverseness and incredulous worldliness 
of those to whom the message is delivered, by 
which they are led to make their wishes their 
interpreters, and to prefer their commentary, 
because it suits their secular inclinations, to the 
spiritual meaning of the messenger ; — if the 
misunderstanding be thus what we usually deno- 
minate wilful; — then the unbelief of the truth, 
and the faith of the error, may be proportional- 
ly criminal, and the divinely commissioned am- 
bassador may rise up in the judgment, and con- 
demn the perverters of his testimony : " There 
is one that accuseth you, even Moses, in whom 
ye trust." 

Let it be remembered, then, (for on all such 
subjects — subjects that involve the character of 
the Divine Being himself, and the destinies of 
his creatures for eternity, there ought to be no- 



53 

thing ambiguous, — nothing but plain dealing,) 
that we consider the Bible as giving the desig- 
nation of THE GOSPEL, by W3LJ of eminence and 
of exclusive distinction, to a certain definite and 
clearly expressed assemblage of doctrines ; — the 
doctrines of salvation by free grace, and divine 
influence, on the ground of the merits and inter- 
cession of a Mediator ; of the guilt and depravity, 
the condemnation and spiritual impotence of 
men ; of acceptance with God by faith alone in 
the righteousness and atonement of Him who 
was " delivered up for the offences of sinners, 
and raised again for their justification," to the 
exclusion of all self-dependence and self-glory- 
ing ; — of renovation of heart by the power of 
the Spirit, through the operation of that testi- 
mony which proclaims mercy to the chief of 
transgressors, and to all transgressors alike, who 
receive it, in simplicity, as the truth of God. 
I mean, in a word, the scripture " record, that 
God hath given to us eternal life, and that this 
life is IN HIS SON ;" — that "the wages of sin is 
DEATH ; but the gift of God is eternal life, 

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD." 

If any shall be startled at this, and shall pro- 
nounce us illiberal and narrow-minded, and 
insist upon a more general and comprehensive 
acceptation of the terms Christianity and Gospel, 
— we cannot help it. Nothing, as we conceive, 

D 2 



54 



can be more dishonouring to the God of the 
Bible, than to suppose that he has given us in it 
a revelation that is not explicit on the very 
subject that forms its main article, and which it 
is chiefly designed to set forth : — and nothing, 
we are confident, is more extensively injurious 
to the best interests of men, than a contrary 
sentiment, by which an indeterminate vagueness 
and laxity is thrown over the scriptures, — con- 
founding things that essentially differ, and allow- 
ing almost every thing which a man may choose 
to think, and to say he believes, to be called 
by the common name of Christianity. — I am 
anxious, then, I repeat, that this should be 
marked and kept in mind. In an attempt to 
point out the moral causes of unbelief, all would 
necessarily be confusion, were that not distinctly 
understood which unbelief rejects.— In treatises 
on the evidences of Christianity, I have many a 
time been disappointed and grieved at the vague- 
ness, — -and worse than vagueness, the absolute 
erroneousness and illegitimacy, of the modes of 
reasoning from the nature or genius of its pe- 
culiar discoveries ; when attempts have been 
made to demonstrate its reasonableness, on 
grounds that involve a total miconception of 
what it really is, I have lamented, on seeing 
the Divine workmanship of the casket so admira- 
bly pointed out, that the value and virtues of the 



55 

jewel contained in it should be so mistakenly 
or deficiently apprehended : — and my comfort 
has been, that the force and conclusiveness of 
the external evidence are not at all invalidated 
by an incorrect exhibition of the internal and 
experimentaL — I have stated generally, but I 
trust inteUigibly, the view of the Gospel on which 
the whole of the following reasonings proceed. 
In the course of the reasonings themselves, that 
view will be more fully brought out. The just- 
ness of them, I need hardly say, depends, to a 
very considerable extent, on its scriptural au- 
thority. 

There are three general sources, to one or 
other of which unbelief of the gospel may fairly, 
I conceive, be traced. These are pi^ofligacy, 
thoughtlessness, and pride, — -the last subdividing 
itself into various kinds, of which the chief are 
also three — the pride of worldly distinction, the 
pride of wisdom, and the pride of self-righteous- 
ness. 

. I shall call your attention to these particulars 
in succession, endeavouring to show, in regard 
to each of them, how the principle of the text 
applies. 

I. In the Jlrst place, then, there is the unbe- 
lief of PROFLIGACY. 

I refer, in this particular, to men who live in 
open sin j whose general course of conduct pro- 

D 3 



56 

claims to all that " there is no fear of God before 
their eyes ;" who " walk after the sight of their 
eyes and the imagination of their hearts/* and 
say, in the true spirit of undisguised rebellion 
"against the Lord, and against his Anointed, 
Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away 
theu' cords from us :" — " What is the Almighty, 
that we should serve him ?" — There will be 
little hesitation, I should presume, in admitting 
what the source of unbelief must be in this case. 
Here there is abundant practical manifestation 
of an eioil heart. For what is the proof of inward 
evil principle ? — what the mark of enmity against 
God ? Let an inspired apostle answer the ques- 
tion : " The carnal mind is enmity against God ; 
FOR it is not subject to the law of God, neither 
indeed can be."* Rebellion in conduct is the 
proof of rebellion in principle ; a bad life, the 
effect and evidence of a bad heart. The efiect 
is uniform 5 the evidence immediate and unequi- 
vocal. The fruit indicates the nature of the 
tree; the streams the character of the fountain. 
*' A good man, out of the good treasure of his 
heart, bringeth forth that which is good ; and an 
evil man, out of the evil treasure, bringeth forth 
that which is evil." 

Yet, simple and conclusive as is the principle 
of all such inferences from the external to the 

* Romans viii. 7. 



57 

internal, from the life to the heart ; even here the 
heart's deep deceitfuhiess at times evinces itself, 
and the proneness of human nature to palliate 
transgression, and to make allowances for evil. 
Even to the open profligate, to the devotee of 
vicious pleasures, to the licentious despiser of all 
moral and decorous restraints, how often do we 
hear the designation good-hearted applied, by 
some with inconsiderate lightness, and by others 
with a simpering and palliative sentimentalism, 
tliat passes itself, with those who cherish it, for 
virtue. The indulgence shown to certain kinds 
and courses of libertinism is such, that a man, 
and especially a young man, may be, in no ordi- 
nary degree, wild and dissolute, without forfeit- 
ing the credit of a good heart : — " He is not so 
correct, to be sure, as he ought to be ; but he 
has great goodness of heart about him j he is no 
one's enemy but his own." — But this is only one 
of the numberless delusions, by which men im- 
pose upon themselves and one another. It 
arises from that over-looking of God in their 
estimates of evil , — from that deep seated prin- 
ciple of ungodliness^ which is the deadly and 
pervading sin of our whole nature. All diso- 
bedience is the expression and evidence of evil 
principle, — of a heart, whatever may be its natu- 
ral affections towards fellow-creatures, at vari- 
ance with the character and the will of God. 

D 4 



58 

Now it is surely no matter for wonder, that 
the gospel, which contains a discovery so full 
and so impressive of the holy purity of the 
Divine Being, of the hateful and damning na- 
ture of all sin, and of. the certainty and fearful- 
ness of the sanctions of a broken law, — should 
find no relish or ready acceptance here. It is 
no wonder that it should be refused admission ; 
and that such men, sensible that it condemns 
them, should seek to quiet their consciences and 
find ease to themselves in their vicious courses, 
by discovering and retailing the most plausible 
objections to it. They ** walk after their own 
lusts, and say. Where is the promise of his 
coming ?" 

Even such characters are sometimes known to 
take up, amongst other grounds of rejection, the 
common charge against the gospel, of its slack- 
ening the restraints of moral obligation, and thus 
tending to immorality and licentiousness. How 
passing strange ! — w^hat anomalous, unaccounta- 
ble presumption ! — It is one amongst the many 
demonstrative evidences of the falsehood of such 
an allegation against the gospel, that the licen- 
tious are its enemies. Were the charge well- 
founded, they, of all men, instead of hating and 
opposing it, would try to persuade themselves of 
its truth. It would be acceptable and palatable. 
It would have all the recommendation of good 



59 

news. For nothing assuredly could be more 
welcome to a licentious man, than to be told 
how he might " continue in sin," and yet " grace 
abound." The very disposition of the wicked 
to oppose the gospel should be considered as a 
testimony from them to its holy tendency. If 
it encouraged sin, it would be a favourite with 
the sinner. The real cause of the opposition of 
such persons, is stated by Christ in the verses 
immediately following the text : — " For every 
one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither 
Cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be 
reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to 
the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, 
that they are wrought in God." 

It is unnecessary to enlarge on this particular. 
It will hardly be questioned, that in the unbelief 
of characters of this first description, these may 
fairly be concluded to be the operation of evil 
principle : — and if there be, there must be guilt. 
Theirs is surely, if it is anywhere at all to be 
found, the " evil heart of unbelief." Their hos- 
tihty to the gospel' is dictated by alienation from 
God, There can be here no reasonable hesita- 
tion to apply the words of the text : " This is 
the condemnation, that light is come into the 
world, and that men loved darkness rather than 
light, because their deeds were evil." 

II. The second description of unbehef which I 



60 



proposed to notice, is that of thoughtlessness, 

or IN CONSIDERATION. 

This, perhaps, would be more correctly desig- 
nated the absence of faith, than positive unbelief. 
It possesses more, certainly, of the nature of a 
negation, inasmuch as a man can hardly, with 
propriety, be said either to believe or disbelieve 
what he has never considered. Yet with whom, 
unless with unbelievers, can the inattentive and 
inconsiderate be classed ? All must come under 
the general denomination, who have the means 
of knowledge, and continue regardless; — and 
negative as their unbelief may be, it is deeply 
criminal, and alas ! most extensively prevalent. 
— The persons of whom 1 now speak, and of 
w^hom the multitude is so great, are not, like the 
class of whom I have already spoken, open pro- 
fligates. They are not addicted to any of those 
courses which the world calls vicious. They 
may even in their lives be sober, decent, and 
respectable. But they are immersed in the 
businesses, the amusements, and the social inter- 
course of life. In enjoying the pleasures, and 
pursuing the acquisitions of the world, each ac- 
cording to his taste, or according to the peculi- 
arity of controlling circumstances, with all the 
ceaseless bustle of eager emulation, — they are 
thoroughly employed ; — their time and their 
attention quite taken up. They go on in this 



61 

course from day to day, and from year to year, 
without a serious thought being devoted to the 
inquiry, unutterably momentous as it is, whether 
the gospel be true or false. There is no fixing them 
to the subject. They have other things to mind. 
There is for ever something ready with an im- 
perious claim for present precedence. They say 
to all who would invite them to serious reflec- 
tion, and they say to the occasional convictions 
of their own minds, " Go thy way for this time, 
when I have a convenient season I will call for 
thee." They are far from being resolved never 
to think. But they cannot think now : and, as 
each hour of the future becomes successively 
present, the same apology recurs, and the time 
for thinking never arrives. It continues always 
a time to come. They fancy indeed they do no 
great harm : They are busy ; they have not 
leisure ; and they cannot help it. They flatter 
themselves, that it is rather a thing they cannot 
than a thing they will not do. Conscience may 
at particular moments be sensible of a misgiving 
twinge : but it is neither severe nor lasting. It 
is easily suppressed, and quickly forgotten, 
amidst the " vain stir" of the world, and the 
countenance of ten thousand examples. 

Such persons will not admit that they are 
imbelievers, and would be grievously offended 
were you to call them so. But unbelievers the 



62 

Bible pronounces them ; and, little as they may 
think of it, their unbelief is far from innocent. — 
Is there no guilt, think you, my hearers, in re- 
fusing, or even neglecting, to examine what 
professes to come from the infinite God! — in 
trifling with his claims ! — in putting off his de- 
mands to be heard ! — in preferring the world, in 
any of its forms, to him and to his proffered 
love 1 — in treating with lightness and disregard 
what he pronounces, and, as "the only wise 
God," cannot but pronounce, of incomparably 
higher importance than the objects on which 
these persons expend their thoughts, their time, 
their labour, their anxieties, and theii' regrets ! 
— Is there no guilt in the apology offered for 
such neglect — " We have no time/' What ? 
Have you not your time from God? is it not in 
him that you live, and move, and have your be- 
ing ? And has he no right to dictate how that 
time shall be employed ? — no title to claim any 
portion of it for himself? — or what he does 
claim, are you at liberty to refuse him ? — And 
yet, it is not so much for himself that he makes 
the demand : — it is for your own best interests. 
It is not the demand of angry authority, insisting 
on homage : it is the demand of tender mercy, 
wooing its object to happiness, and making that 
your duty, which he knows to be your felicity. 
He can be happy without you ; — you cannot, 



63 

without him. You cannot in time ; you cannot 
in eternity. Your refusal, therefore, to listen to 
his voice, is characterized not less by ingrati- 
tude, than by impiety and folly. What ! no 
time — presumptuous worm of the dust — no time 
to think of God ! — " the God in whose hand thy 
breath is, and whose are all thy ways 1" — on 
whom thou dependest for every instant of that 
life, which thou art spending in despiteful disre- 
gard of Him ! — to whose justice every thing has 
been more than forfeited by thee, and who, in 
sovereignty and in righteousness, has thy being 
and thy well-being at his disposal ! — no time to 
think of God !— of his nature and character — of 
his relations to thyself — of his claims upon thee 
— of the intimations to thee of his mind and 
will — of his denunciations of vengeance, and his 
kind proposals for thy good ! And is there no 
criminality in drawing excuses from self for 
forgetfulness of God ; — from time, for the neglect 
of eternity ; — from *' trifles light as air," for dis- 
regard of the weighty interests of the immortal 
soul, — which God has shown that he values so 
highly, by doing so much, and giving so much, 
for its redemption ! O ! if it be true, that God 
has *' so loved the world as to give his only be- 
gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
might not perish but have everlasting life,"' — is 
there no guilt in slighti^ng this love and this life ? 



64 

Let me suppose a son to have transgressed 
against his father, and to have incurred his 
merited and heavy displeasure. The affection- 
ate parent is anxious to speak with him. His 
bowels yearn over his child. He longs, pain- 
fully longs, to open his heart. He has propo- 
sals of forgiveness, and of returning kindness 
to make to him, to bring him to a right mind, 
to subdue him to penitential sorrow, and restore 
him to confidence and favour. With the digni- 
fied energy and persuasive tenderness of pater- 
nal affection, he addresses him : — and the stub- 
born and scornful youth turns short on his heel, 
and tells him he has not time to hear him — he 
has got other things to mind ; discovering at 
once contempt of his father's displeasure, and 
supercilious disregard of the offers of his recon- 
ciliation and love ? Would not you, with in- 
dignant severity, pronounce on such conduct 
the unhesitating sentence of reprobation, as un- 
natural and monstrous? Would not you be 
shocked by his light-heartedness, by every indi- 
cation about him of his being, in such circum- 
stances, capable of any enjoyment, and by his 
busy application to other concerns ? O how 
much more then ought you to be shocked, when 
you see a sinner refusing to listen to the voice of 
a beseeching God ! — telling him he has not 
leisure to attend to what he says! — ''making 

10 



65 

light" of his invitations, and going off ** to his 
farm or his merchandise." Surely the language 
of God to such is right, and reasonable, and just, 
— " Therefore, it is come to pass, that, as I 
cried and they would not hear, so they cried, 
and I would not hear, saith the Lord of 
Hosts.'^* 

If we are at a loss to find ground of application 
for the words of our text — " their deeds were 
evir — to this case, surely we ought not to be so. 
The principle of the whole character of such 
men is evil. For what is it ? Is it not a pre- 
ference of the world to God ? How amazing 
the deceitfulness and wickedness of the heart — 
that allows men to be guilty of this without the 
consciousness of its being evil ! Evil it is ; and 
deeply evil : and all the deeds that are dictated 
by such a principle, partake of the evil of their 
principle, and incur righteous condemnation. 
Men may fondly flatter themselves, that whilst, 
in their pursuit of the world, they give every 
man his due, add humanity to justice, and do 
harm to nobody, no one has any title to say 
aught against them. But they forget that there 
is ANOTHER wlio demands his due, — and who, 
as his due, seeks the affectionate homage of a 
believing heart, and the practical service of a 

Zech. vii. 13 . 



66 

godly as well as a sober and righteous life : — 
they forget, that so long as the heart is not his, 
all is evil — evil only — evil continually : — and to 
the unbelief of inconsiderate thoughtlessness, the 
words of the text may, without any hesitating 
qualification, be legitimately applied :-- " This 
is the condemnation, that light is come into the 
world, and men loved darkness rather than light, 
because their deeds were evil/' 

Were a man to neglect his worldly business, 
and the temporal interests of his family, and to 
assign as his reason, that he was so entirely 
taken up about the concerns of his soul and of 
eternity, that he really could find no leisure to 
" mind earthly things," — his apology would not 
be sustained ; — nor would it be right that it 
should : — for it is part of the scriptural cha- 
racter of the godly man, that he be " not 
slothful in business;" and it is the recorded 
decision of heaven, that, " if any man provide 
not for his own, and specially for those of his 
own house, he hath denied the faith, and is 
worse than an infidel." The beauty of religion 
too consists in giving every duty, to self, to man, 
and to God, its proper time, place, and measure. 
And whilst, on these grounds, the person who 
should offer such a plea could not have the ap- 
probation even of those who fear God, — he 
would meet, poor man ! with little sympathy 

10 



67 

and little quarter from the ungodly world. 
Every mouth would be open against him, in 
the severity of censure, the sneer of affected 
pity, or the bitterness of sarcastic contumely. 
The censure, I have admitted, would be just. 
The man's " deeds would be evil." — But let us 
look at the case. Shall a heavy censure be 
made to light on the man who neglects time for 
eternity, and lie pass without rebuke who ne- 
glects eternity for time ? Shall the defence be 
sustained, that pleads the incessant occupations 
of the present world as precluding the possibility 
of attending to the concerns of the world to 
come ; whilst the plea is thrown over the bar as 
unsound and frivolous, that would vindicate the 
want of interest about the concerns of the pre- 
sent from the absorbing influence of an intense 
solicitude about that which is future and eter- 
nal ? Put time and eternity, with their respec- 
tive interests, into opposite scales, — and tell me 
which is the heavier, and of which the claims 
are the most imperious. If you hold as valid 
the apology from the engagements of time for 
inconsideration about eternity, the opposite 
apology should be admitted to possess a validity 
superior in conclusiveness, in the precise ratio, 
(if you can estimate it) of eternity to time ! — I 
have already said, that in neither case is the 
plea well-founded : — ^but on the supposition that 



68 

the principle of it were at all admissible, the 
strength of it would be greater, even by infini- 
tude itself, in the one case than in the other ; — 
and if on both sides there be guilt and folly, I 
need not say in what relative proportions. 

Let it not be alleged, that the concerns of 
this world are present and those of the world to 
come future ; — that what is present has the first 
and most immediate claim ; and that he is there- 
fore more culpable who neglects the present for 
the future, than he who neglects the future for the 
present. — The pretext is futile, on two obvious 
grounds. In the first place, the interests of a 
never-ending existence are so tran seen den tly 
superior in magnitude to those of a few transi- 
tory years, that were it necessary (which it is 
not) to the securing of the former, that the 
latter should be disregarded, it would, beyond all 
question, be the extreme of infatuation to hesi- 
tate about the alternative : — and secondly, ^/wre 
things, in this comparison, are, in a most im- 
portant sense, present. The interests of the soul 
are present interests, and its preparation for 
eternity a present duty. It is a work that can 
be done only now. Were the future indepen- 
dent of the present, and unaffected by it, there 
might be wisdom in the objection. But if it be 
true, that our spiritual state now is to determine 
our everlasting destinies ; then are the para- 



69 

mount interests of eternity, in as far as regards 
the means of securing them, brought within the 
limits of time. If they are not secured now, 
they are lost for ever. 

From all this I still conclude, that the unbe- 
lief, which springs from wilful inconsideration, 
— from a thoughtless preference of the engage- 
ments of this world, a preference which finds 
some secular claim upon every passing moment, 
and cannot disengage an instant for the soul and 
eternity, is stamped with guilt as well as with 
folly. 

We must all, from experience, be conscious, 
that indifference is worse to bear than opposition ; 
— ^that to be slighted is more offensive than to be 
resisted. That a proposal for the benefit of 
another, which has cost us the expenditure of 
thought and time, and property, should be 
argued against and disapproved, we may, with 
some little effort of self-government, contrive to 
bear : — but to have it treated as if it were not 
worth a hearing ; to see the man for whose good 
we have been at so much pains, turn from us 
with unimpressible levity and indifference, and 
plead some worthless trifle as having a prior claim 
upon his attention and time ! — -I put it to every 
one of you, whether you would not feel this a 
more intolerable insult, than if your plan were 
to be heard, opposed, and rejected ? O think, 

E 2 



70 

then, of the insult offered to the blessed God by 
the sHghting indifference of his sinful creatures ; 
— an indifference which will not even listen to 
his proposals, but on every silly pretext that can 
suggest itself, turns away from him, and from all 
who would engage attention to him, even to 
trifles that, in the comparison, would not weigh the 
dust of the balance ! — Is there no moral evil in 
this ? — nothing for which the thoughtless and 
busy worldling can be justly called to account ? 

III. I come now, in the third place to con- 
sider the unbeHef of PRIDE. 

This general head divides itself, as I formerly 
noticed, into a variety of subordinate particulars. 
Even the two preceding topics of discourse 
might, perhaps without impropriety, have been 
comprehended under it \ — the one, as the pride 
of self-mil, and the other, as the pride of careless 
insubordination ; and thus all the sources of un- 
belief might have been reduced, as logicians 
express it, to one category. — But the descrip- 
tions of pride to which I now request your at- 
tention come more directly and naturally under 
this common designation. They are the pride of 
wealth and station, the pride of wisdom, and the 
pride of self-righteousness, 

I. The pride of wealth and station, 

Christianity fully recognises, and in no re- 
spect interferes with, the ordinary established 



71 

distinctions of civil society : and they sadly mis- 
take its nature, and betray great deficiency of 
sound judgment and discretion, who act as if it 
were otherwise ; as if the faith and fellowship of 
the church of God obliterated the gradations of 
civil rank, and gave a dispensation from all the 
usually acknowledged proprieties of life. — But in 
regard to the provisions of the gospel, the Bible 
does place all upon a level. The salvation which 
it reveals is, in its nature, its necessity, and 
its means, the same to all. There is one 
Bible, that teaches to all the same lessons ; one 
salvation, for " high and low, rich and poor 
together." There are not two Saviours, — one 
for the rich and another for the poor. There 
are not two ways to heaven, one for the rich 
and the other for the poor. There are not two 
tables spread and furnished, and two descrip- 
tions of fare provided ; — there are not, in a 
word, two heavens, the one for the rich, and the 
other for the poor. In the *' communion of 
saints,'^ both below and above, " the rich and 
the poor meet together : the Lord is the maker," 
and the Lord is the Saviour, "of them all." 
Both as sinners, and as saved sinners, they stand 
on common ground. They are " all one in 
Christ Jesus." They enjoy the same privileges; 
they are possessors of the same honours ; they 
acknowledge the same Father and the same 

E 3 



72 

Lord 5 they join in the same worship, the wor- 
ship of one God, through one Mediator, by one 
Spirit ; they are debtors to the same mercy, and 
look forward, on the same ground of hope, to 
the same everlasting inheritance. In the matter 
of salvation, from first to last, there is thus a 
'perfect equality. 

Now to many, this is offensive. Their pride 
rises at the thought of being placed on a level 
with the poorest and the meanest ; of merging 
all their earthly distinctions, and joining with 
such in one fellowship, having blessings and 
privileges in common on the very same footing, 
children with them of the same family, and 
anticipating, on the same ground, the same 
heaven \ — a heaven, where worldly dignities shall 
be no more, — where riches and birth confer no 
honour, — where, if they " sit down with Abra- 
ham and Isaac," they must at the same time sit 
down with Lazarus. — *« God hath chosen the 
poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of 
the kingdom which he hath promised to them 
that love him." Not a few among the rich and 
the noble, when they read this and see it real- 
ized, associate the religion of the gospel with 
the ideas of meanness and vulgarity, and the 
simple scriptural fellowship of a church of 
Christ with degradation, from which they shrink 
with a secret or avowed disdain. They like 



7S 

religion "in her silver slippers;" — when her 
observances can be made to accord with the 
pomps and fashions of the world, when she 
condescends to take them by the hand, accord- 
ing to their rank, and instead of rudely stripping 
them of every badge of distinction, poUtely 
recognises the star and the coronet. They have 
no objections to the church, when they can be 
allowed to bring the world into it along with them. 
But is there no eml in such feelings ? — nothing 
criminal ? — nothing offensive to God ? — Is not 
this the very same temper of mind that discover- 
ed itself in the Jews, when they were disgusted 
at the meanness of the Saviour's birth, and con- 
dition, and outward appearance ; — " the car- 
penter's son," instead of the royal leader of the 
armies of Israel, surrounded with the splendours 
of an earthly kingdom ? In the language of the 
prophet, he " grew up before them as a tender 
plant, and as a root out of a dry ground : he had 
no form nor comeliness, and when they saw him, 
there was no beauty that they should desire 
him : he was despised and rejected of men : they 
hid as it were their faces from him ; he was 
despised, and they esteemed him not." — Is there 
no guilt, nothing morally wrong, in that state 
of mind, which allows the petty distinctions 
between fellow-creatures to shut out the remem- 
brance of the infinite superiority of God? — a 

E ^ 



74 

superiority, before which all these distinctions 
are " less than nothing and vanity/* — the very 
thought of which should throw them all into 
forgetfulness ; — as in nature, though " one star 
differeth from another star in glory," the whole 
hemisphere of twinkling lights retire from view 
before the splendours of the rising sun. — Is there 
no sin in the state of mind, which allows the 
imaginary degradation of connection with an 
4nferior to outweigh the honour of being brought 
into fellowship with the infinite Jehovah ? Is 
there no guilt in refusing the very highest dig- 
nity that God himself has to confer, because 
that dignity must be shared with those who are 
destitute of the paltry honours of this vain 
world? Is there no guilt in the dishonour thus 
put upon God by sentiments of him so low and 
unworthy — as if he was to be influenced, in the 
bestowment of his blessings, by those little worth- 
less differences that elevate one worm of the 
dust above his fellows ! — Is there no guilt in 
slighting and disowning the offers of the " gos- 
pel of the grace of God" on such a ground ? 

There is, moreover, what the Bible denomi- 
nates "the deceitfulness of riches." And so 
powerful are the seducing temptations included 
in the expression, that Christ himself has said, 
in language that may well startle the possessors 
of this world's abundance, " How hardly shall 



7-5 

they that have riches enter into the kingdom of 
God ! It is easier for a camel to go through the 
eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter 
into the kingdom of God."— The language 
strongly intimates, how exceedingly prone the 
proprietors of riches are to trust in them ;— to 
" make gold their hope, and say to the fine gold, 
thou art my confidence;" — to glory in their 
wealth as their " strong city," in the presump- 
tuous spirit of self-sufficiency and self-depen- 
dence ; — thus to forget the God who " maketh 
them to differ," and by whose munificent hand 
their undeserved abundance is bestowed, — to 
fancy they can do well enough without religion, — 
to feel as if it were beneath them, — and to leave 
it to the poor, for whom, they grant, it may be 
suitable, and who stand in need of its supports 
and consolations. As for themselves they do 
not require them. 

Is there no guilt in this attachment to the 
world ? — in ungratefully forgetting God in pro- 
portion as he is liberal in his kindness ? — in 
" forsaking the fountain of living water, and 
hewing out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can 
hold no water ?" — in estimating religion, as if it 
were a matter of mere self-interest, — something 
to which a man may, if he please, have recourse, 
when his circumstances are felt to require it, 
but which otherwise he is under no obHgation to 



76 

mind ? — Is not this spirit of worldliness the 
spirit of idolatry ? Is it not substituting the 
creature for the creator, — the gift for the giver, 
— ^the cause of gratitude for its infinitely worthy 
object? Is there not truth and reason in what 
Job says — " If I have made gold my hope, or 
have said to the fine gold, thou art my confi- 
dence; if I rejoiced because my wealth was 
great, and because my hand had gotten much ; 

1 should have denied the God that is 

above ?" And if it be by such a state of heart, 
— by such a worldly, such an atheistical spirit, 
that a man is kept back from accepting the 
proposals and embracing the offers of the gospel, 
— ^is not the unbelief criminal, and worthy of 
condemnation ? — " How can ye believe," said 
Jesus to the Jews, " who receive honour one of 
another, and seek not the honour that cometh 
from God only ?" The inability thus expressed 
is obviously and entirely moral. It is the ina- 
bility of rooted and habitual worldliness to value 
and to relish spiritual blessings. It is the ina- 
bility of the want of right principle. — And what is 
true of the honours of the world, is equally true 
of its riches : — what is true of ambition is true 
of covetousness : and true, indeed, of every in- 
ordinate desire after earthly things. It was this 
that disinclined the Jews from " coming to 
Christ" — from accepting his doctrine, and sub- 



77 

mitting to his authority. He himself imputes it 
all to their want of will, — and that want of will 
to the absence of the principle of godhness : — 
"Ye WILL NOT come unto me, that ye might 
have life :" — " I know you, that ye have not 
THE LOVE OF GOD in you."* This description 
of unbelief, then, might be designated the un- 
belief of woy'ldly-mindedness. And I repeat the 
question, Is there no guilt in it? — no guilt in 
allowing the world, and the wealth and honours 
and distinctions of the world, to occupy the 
place of the blessings of God's salvation, and 
to steal away the heart from him who claims it 
as his own ! 

2. I now come to the second of the three de- 
scriptions of pride, namely — the pride of wisdom. 

" Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank 
thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, 
because thou hast hid these things from the 
wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
babes."t — All along in the history of its pro- 
gress, the gospel has been obnoxious to the con- 
tempt and ridicule of a vain philosophy — a 
" science falsely so called/' It has encountered 
from this quarter more bitter virulence of despite 
than from any other. It was the scornful ques- 
tion of Athenian wisdom — " What will this bab- 

* John V. 40. 42. 44. f Matth. xi. 25. 



78 

bier say ?" and the question expresses the spirit 
of the ** wisdom of the world" in all times and 
in all places. This wisdom, and the wisdom of 
God, are held forth as in perfect opposition and 
contrast : — " For the, preaching of the cross is 
to them that perish foolishness ; but unto us 
who are saved it is the power of God, For it 
is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, 
and will bring to nothing the understanding of 
the prudent. — Where is the wise ? where is the 
scribe ? where is the disputer of this world ? hath 
not God made foolish the wisdom of this world ? 
For after that, in the wisdom of God, the world 
by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God by 
the foolishness of preaching to save them that 
believe. For the Jews require a sign, and the 
Greeks seek after wisdom : but we preach Christ 
crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and 
unto the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them 
who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ 
the power of God, and the wisdom of God. 
Because the foolishness of God is wiser than 
men ; and the weakness of God is stronger than 
men. For ye see your calling, brethren, how 
that not many wise men, after the flesh, not 
many mighty, not many noble, are called : but 
God hath chosen the foolish things of the world 
to confound the wise ; and God hath chosen 
the weak things of the world to confound the 

7 



79 

things which are mighty ; and base things of 
the world, and things which are despised, hath 
God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to 
bring to nought things that are ; that no flesh 
should glory in his presence."* — There is but 
little deference shown here to the wisdom of 
men. Its incompetency, in all that relates to 
the character and will of God, and the way of 
acceptance with him, is strongly affirmed; an 
incompetency, ascertained by its notorious and 
utter failure on such subjects, after a trial of its 
powers for successive centuries and millenniums. 
Its unsuccessful researches, and fruitless labours 
are held up even to scorn, in contrast with the 
light and energy and marvellous effects of that 
doctrine of the cross, which this very wisdom 
affected to pity as weakness, or to scoff at as 
folly. — So low an estimate of the powers of hu- 
man reason in the things of God, by which all 
its lofty pretensions are so unceremoniously set 
aside, might itself be expected to offend not a 
little the indignant pride of the wise men of this 
w^orld. 

There are various other sources, too, to which 
in different degrees, according to peculiarities 
of constitutional or acquired character, the dis- 
like, and consequent unbelief of these wise men 
may be traced. 

* 1 Cor, i. 18—29. 



80 



1. The first I shall mention is, tJie requisition 
of implicit faith. 

Those philosophers of whom I speak, possess, 
in more than ordinary energy, a principle com- 
mon to them with all, — an aversion from having 
any thing authoritatively prescribed to them. 
They cannot bear to be dictated to. They like to 
exercise their own powers of invention and disco- 
very y to have their own systems, their own distin- 
guishing tenets, and their respective followers and 
admirers. They must have the liberty of thinking 

for themselves. And do not imagine that I am for 
denying them this liberty. It is right, that they, 
and that every man, should enjoy, and should use 
it. But still, if the Bible be once admitted to be 
the WORD OF God, it follows of necessity that it 
requires the submission of every mind to its dic- 
tates. Whatever it reveals must be received as 
truth : whatever it commands must be practised 
as duty. This restrains the high-minded spirit 
of free-thinking. It represses the " airy wing" 
of a bold and lofty speculation. It sets down 
the philosopher at the feet of apostles and 
prophets, in the humble capacity of a learner 
and asker of questions. For if these men really 
spoke and wrote " as they were moved by the 

. Spirit of God," then the sole inquiry, in con- 
sulting their writings, must be, " What is the 
meamng of their words ?" When that is ascer- 



81 

tained, there can be no liberty left to take or to 
reject at pleasure, — to select what we may deem 
worthy of adoption, and to refuse what meets 
not our liking or approval. There can be no 
liberty to alter and amend, to add, or to di- 
minish. The testimony of God must be taken 
as it is, — it must be received, in humble sim- 
plicity of mind, as he has given it. And this 
submission of the understanding to implicit and 
authoritative dictation, is a demand which the 
self-sufficient spirit of the wisdom of this world 
finds it especially difficult to brook — *' It is a 
hard saying, who can hear it ?" 

S. A second cause of offence to the wise of 
this world, is, that the knowledge communicated 
by the gospel must be held by them in common 
with all, — with the most unphilosophical and 
illiterate, — the vulgar herd of ordinary men : — 
they must derive it from the same source, and 
must rest their faith of it on the same ground. 

Those who are made "wise unto salvation" 
are " not many wise men after the flesh," any 
more than " many mighty, and many noble:" — 
and the philosopher is strongly tempted to 
nauseate a faith which is equally within the 
reach of all minds, and in the reception of which 
his own mind must be brought into association 
with those of the common people — with many 
souls which 



82 



-proud Science never taught to stray 



Far as the solar walk or milky way : — 

he must believe as others beheve ; he must re- 
Hnquish all pretensions to originality, and all 
attempts at improvement ; he must have nothing 
which he can appropriate and call his own, and 
so distinguish himself from the crowd of simple, 
well-meaning believers. — There are few things, 
I am apt to think, for which the proud philoso- 
phy of this world has a more sensitively shrink- 
ing distaste, than common, vulgar, every -day 
opinions. 

3. The views given in the Bible, and especial- 
ly in the testimony of the gospel, of human 
nature, as utterly alienated from God, — in a 
state of enmity against him, — in the midst of 
whatever is amiable and honourable towards 
fellow-men, still manifesting this deep-seated 
spirit of ungodliness, — guilty, condemned, im- 
potent, and hopeless j — and of the way, too, of 
its recovery from this " low estate," by free 
mercy, through the merits, the sacrifice, and the 
mediation of another, to the entire exclusion of 
all self-dependence and self-glorying ;— these 
views are far from being such as can ever be 
palatable to the wisdom of this world. For of 
this wisdom, even in its more moderate aberra- 
tions from the Bible, human nature is the idol, 
and human virtue the favourite theme. In the 



8^ 

least exceptionable of its systems, the former, in 
its present character, is assumed to be what the 
author of all created natures has been pleased to 
make it ; and the latter, though unhappily, in this 
probationary state, alloyed with imperfections 
and frailties, and at times, through unfavourable 
circumstances and the force of temptation, 
giving place to even the excesses of evil, is 
yet exhibited as presenting a high average of 
goodness, and, in its innate dispositions and ca- 
pabilities at least, bearing the impress of its 
Divine original. These prevailing sentiments 
of philosophy are at perfect variance with the 
statements of the Bible ; so that, even when that 
sacred volume is spoken of with professions of 
respect, its most explicit declarations are, never- 
theless, under various pretexts, softened down 
and explained away ; — for, to understand them 
in their plain, unvarnished import, would be in- 
tolerably degrading, and unworthy of the real 
dignity of man. 

4. Neither can it be supposed very congenial 
to the high spirit of philosophy, for its ardent 
admirers to be told, that they cannot of them- 
selves have a right understanding of " the things 
of God ;''— -that the most boasted powers fail 
here, without Divine illumination and aid : — 
that, amidst all their real candour and love of 
truth on other subjects, they are, like all other 



84 

men, under the illusion of predominant preju- 
dice upon these, — prejudice, which the Spirit of 
God alone can remove ;- — that there is a darken- 
ing film on the eye of their mind ; and that they 
must come to the Divine Author of the Bible, 
to clear their mental sight of this obstruction, 
and to give them spiritual discernment of his 
truth. 

Now, the question is. Are these things so ? 
And if, in any case, they be so, do they consti- 
tute a right state of mind ? — a state of mind that 
is free of moral culpability, and which exonerates 
unbelief from the charge in the text ? On the 
contrary, is there not evil in all this pride of 
reason and of intellectual independence ? Does 
it not belong to that " loftiness of man" which 
must be " bowed down ?"*— Ought not men, 
circumstanced as they are, to be anxious to 
obtain, and delighted at receiving, a comm.unica- 
tion from God ? And, having received it, is it 
not right that, with a deeply humble sense of 
inferiority and obligation, they should bow their 
minds to the acceptance of its dictates ? Ought 
they not, moreover, to be more than satisfied, to 
be pleased and rejoiced, that this communication 
should be made equally to all, — not, in the style 
and matter of it, adapted for philosophers only, 
but suited to mankind at large, in their common 
character and universal exigencies ? — that as the 



S5 

knowledge imparted equally concerns all, and 
all stand equally in need of it, it should not re- 
quire the acumen and research of profound 
philosophy, to discover and bring it to light, but 
should be so written, as that " he that runs 
might read ?" 

Fancy not, that I object to the exercise of 
Reason in regard to religion. No. I only wish 
to assign it its proper province. The two ques- 
tions to which Reason should apply her powers 
are simply. Whether the Scriptures be a reve- 
lation from God ? — and, if they be. What they 
teach?— Now, I would ask, is the former of 
these inquiries what human philosophy Jirst and 
most solicitously seeks to ascertain? Unquestiona- 
bly it ought to be so. But is it so ? Do philo- 
sophers in general bend their first attention to 
this point ? — and do they come to the considera- 
tion of it with that simplicity and that solemnity 
of mind, which the subject alike demands j — 
their spirits loaded with the weight of an inquiry 
so momentous, and involving results of such un- 
speakable consequence j and humbly and sin- 
cerely resolved, if the professed revelation shall 
abide the test, to settle their faith, on all the 
matters of which it treats, according to its 
decisions,-— terminating their own speculations^ 
— laying down their fancied and boasted dis- 
coveries at the feet of a Divine Instructor, — 

F 2 



86 

complying with the apostoHc admonition, " If 
any man among you seemeth to be wise in this 
world, let him become a fool that he may be 
wise," — glad to find repose in the unerring 
testimony of heaven, from tossing on the 
troubled sea of conjecture and doubt ? How 
rarely is such a course pursued by the wise men 
of the world ! And one reason, it is to be 
feared, why the Divine authority of the Bible 
does not, as it ought, engage their first and most 
anxious inquiry, is the secret consciousness, that 
if it do possess such authority, it must bind them 
down, — ^it must command their assent, — ^it must 
destroy, as they conceive, their freedom of 
thought 5 — and they cannot bear this : they feel, 
in the native " vanity of their minds," a higher 
pleasure in roving at large on the sea of scepti- 
cal speculation, troubled as it is, and strewn 
with wrecks, than in the peaceful security of the 
harbour of faith. 

Thus, as the poet expresses it, 

" In pride, in reas'ning pride, the error lies, 
All would be Gods, and rush into the skies :" 

and his words express no more than what might 
have been anticipated from the manner in which 
sin found its entrance into our world. It came 
in the form of ambition. It was insinuated into 
the soul, as a secret aspiring wish after inter- 



87 

dieted knowledge, — a wish to have the tempting 
assurance verified, *' Ye shall be as God, know- 
ing good and evil." The high-minded preten- 
sions of human wisdom, its dissatisfaction with 
Divine communications, its confidence in its own 
powers, and attachment to its own discoveries, 
are in perfect harmony with this origin of our 
apostacy, and may be reckoned among the indi- 
cations of its truth. — Faith implies the distrust 
and renunciation of our own wisdom in " the 
things of God," and the entire submission of 
the mind to Divine teaching : — and the unbelief 
that springs from a state of mind opposite to this 
must be placed to the account of a pride of 
heart, such as God has declared he will hold at 
a distance. He " resisteth the proud, but giveth 
grace unto the lowly." " The proud he knoweth 
afar off." 

3. The last of the three descriptions of pride 
to which I conceived unbelief might be traced, is 
the pride of self righteousness. 

This is a principle which exists in great force 
in human nature, and, although discovering itself 
under different modifications, is common to all. 
The statements of the Bible inform us, that 
while man continued in his original innocence, 
he held his happy life on the ground of his own 
obedience. This was the Divine appointment 
concerning him. But when man had sinned, 



88 

this state of things came to an end. A Saviour 
was then revealed, and a scheme of acceptance 
entirely new, adapted to his new situation and 
character. It then became, equally with the 
former, the divine appointment, that man, as a 
fallen creature, should seek and obtain life, on 
the ground of free mercy, through faith in that 
Saviour. From that time forward, the attempt 
to find life otherwise, by reverting to the origi- 
nal ground, and fancying again to deserve it, 
has been an act of presumptuous rebellion. It 
is as much, as I formerly hinted, the law^ or 
divine enactment, now, that sinners shall be saved 
hy grace, as it was at first that man should 
live hy his obedience ; and the desire or endea- 
vour now to obtain life by our own righteous- 
ness, is as distinctly opposition to the declared 
will of God, as the eating of the forbidden fruit 
was. 

But this is a view of the case which our proud 
nature does not like. There is in every bosom 
a clinging to self,— a fondness for something 
of our own as our plea with God, and an extreme 
backwardness to relinquish our hold of it. The 
disposition manifests itself in an endless variety 
of ways, amongst all descriptions of character, 
from the highest example of worldly correctness, 
down to the veriest wretch that disgraces the 
society of a jail. All have their righteousness, 



89 

— some positive good, or some negation of evil, 
which, hov^ever Httle it recommends them to 
fellow-creatures, they flatter themselves may have 
its weight with God, to disarm his vengeance, 
and procure them some portion of favour. 
Such is the infatuating power of this principle, 
that the very last thing which a sinner can be 
induced to give up is this inveterate attachment 
to something in himself as his recommendation 
to God. 

But all unbelief that arises from this source 
has in it, if there be truth in the Bible, the very 
spirit and essence of rebellion. Surely in the 
ear of every holy being, the self-righteousness of 
a sinner must sound as the very strangest possi- 
ble anomaly and contradiction. It is the first 
duty of a sinner, instead of attempting self-justi- 
fication, to confess his guilt, and plead for mercy ; 
and with humility, and gratitude, and joy, to 
accept that mercy in the way in which his 
offended Maker has been graciously pleased to 
offer it. To spurn at this, is to add to the spirit 
of rebellion that of the foulest ingratitude. The 
justly offended Sovereign was under no obhga- 
tion to provide means of recovery for sinful 
men. " He and his throne would have been 
guiltless," had he left them to perish. Yet he 
has wrought in their behalf such wonders of 
mercy, as make us, by their very magnitude, 



90 

incredulous of their reality. From what the 
power of God has done, we infer that there is 
nothing but what involves a contradiction which 
it cannot do. As all the eftects of creative 
power must necessarily hejinite, we can have no 
proof but such an inferential one, of power that 
is hifinite. But we have higher and more direct 
evidence of infinite benevolence. It has actually 
bestowed a gift of infinite value : for " God so 
loved the world, as to give his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth in him might not 
perish, but have everlasting life." This is a 
gift of which the worth can never be estimated, 
for it is truly and properly divine :^ — and the 
bestowment of it ought to draw from the inmost 
soul of every one who hears of it the simple but 
deep-felt utterance of apostolic praise — " Thanks 
be unto God for his unspeakable gift !" Men 
profess to be charmed with the scripture as- 
surance, that God " delighteth in mercy .*" and 
yet, in rejecting the grace of the gospel, they 
reject the grand manifestation of its truth ; and, 
by their reliance on themselves, and their at- 
tempts to recommend themselves to God, and 
make out some claim upon him, by their own 
doings, they deprive the gospel of its very na- 
ture, as a revelation of mercy. Pure mercy is 
of its very essence : and, though, for securing 
the honour of divine justice, it is mercy through 



91 

a Mediator, yet this does not render the mercy 
the less entirely gratuitous to the sinful creature. 
And he who will not consent to the utter renun- 
ciation of dependence on his own fancied merits, 
and to be a debtor to mercy alone, is in the full 
spirit of opposition to the God of the Gospel. 

And is there, think you, no evil in that state 
of heart, that prevents a sinful creature from 
bowing his spirit to the mercy of his justly of- 
fended God?— -that disposes him to spurn away 
the offers of sovereign grace, and refuse to be its 
debtor ? — vainly to fancy that he can be his own 
Saviour, and make good his title to heaven ?-— 
Is it not right that a sinner should be a sup- 
pliant ? — that his pride should be abased ? — his 
high-mindedness laid in the dust ? — that, instead 
of coming to God with the lofly port of the self- 
justifying pharisee, he should come with the 
" broken and contrite spirit" of the publican, 
crying " God be merciful !" — not presenting a 
claim, but petitioning for a favour ; — not appeal- 
ing to justice, but imploring clemency? Is it 
not as it ought to be, when, before the spotless 
purity of that God who " is light, and in whom 
there is no darkness at all,'' he sees, and feels, 
and owns, every thing about himself to be de- 
fective and tainted, all unworthy the acceptance 
of such a being, — and when he throws himself 
at the footstool of the eternal throne,— -the 



9^ 

throne of the Divine holiness, — self-condemned, 
and pleading the name and the merits of the ap- 
pointed Mediator ? — Is not all this what really 
becomes a sinner ? Is not this his proper pos- 
ture, his proper temper, his proper petition, his 
proper plea ? Ought not such a creature to 
take shame to himself, and to give God the 
glory ? And must it not come from an " m/ 
hearty'' that such a creature cannot bring himself 
to the humiliation of an unconditional surren- 
der ? It is the very first thing to which a sinner 
is called, — (and is it not the very first thing to 
which he ought to be called?) — to submit to 
mercy. The religion of a sinner must begin 
with this. It is the first right feeling in his 
heart towards the God with whom he has to do. 
If God has revealed himself to sinners, the 
religion of sinners must regard him as so reveal- 
ed ; and if he is revealed as exercising free 
mercy, through the righteousness, atonement, 
and intercession, of a Mediator, — then the first 
principle of religion in a sinner's bosom must be 
the acceptance of this mercy, — the humble 
acquiescence of the soul in the offers of uncon- 
ditional grace. All is radically wrongs till he is 
brought t9 this. He is under the power of an 
evil heart, — of a high, self-wdlled, unsubmissive 
spirit, — than which, if we are to give credit to 
the Bible, there is no temper of mind more 
offensive to God. 



93 

And " the deeds are evil" that are performed 
in such a state of heart, — that are dictated by 
such a principle, — that have in them a spirit so 
utterly unbefitting a sinful creature, the spirit of 
self-recommendation, God must hold his place. 
The majesty of holiness unites, in his admini- 
stration, with the condescensions of grace. His 
throne is the throne of purity, as well as of love. 
The acceptance of sinners, and their restoration 
to his favour, must be consistent with the claims 
of his righteousness, as well as with the dictates 
of his clemency. It must not be, that the in- 
finite Jehovah compromise his honour, to gratify 
the wayward humour, and haughty self-suf- 
ficiency, of a sinful worm of the dust ! It must 
not be, that God be disregarded, in order that 
man may be exalted ! — that when He holds out 
the kind ofier of unconditional mercy, and the 
indignant rebel refuses submission, he should 
change his counsels, relinquish his claims, and 
receive him on other terms ! It must not 
be, that the sinning creature dictate to his 
Divine Sovereign the conditions of his own 
capitulation ! It must not be, that the very 
principle of a rebel's apostacy be indulged 
and cherished by the method of his re- 
covery, — and that the jewels be wrenched from 
the crown of the Eternal to adorn the brow 
that scorned to bow itself to his foot-stool ! — 
Grace is what is offered : — ^grace is what alone 



94 

can be offered : — and the sinner by whom 
grace is refused seals his own condemnation. 
The refusal comes from a proud, and therefore 
from an evil heart. 

From the general position, that all unbelief of 
the gospel has its origin in evil, and from much of 
what has been said in the proof and illustration 
of it, many of you, I fear, may have set me down 
as exceedingly narrow-minded and uncharitable. 
I cannot help it. I must say, with Balaam, 
though I trust from a better principle, " I cannot 
go beyond the word of the Lord, to say less or 
more.'' I dare not indulge a charity for the 
sentiments and motives of infidelity, — or an 
unbelieving disregard and rejection of the gospel 
of Christ, — such as would contradict, or go 
beyond, the testimony of that Book which I 
believe to be the Word of the Searcher of 
HEARTS.— 1 am deeply conscious, that the natu- 
ral tendencies of my own heart are in unison 
with the mortifying statements of that Book, 
and stand in constant need of a counteracting 
influence : and upon the verdict of the Divine 
record, confirmed by observation of man- 
kind, I am satisfied that the natural tendencies 
of all hearts, however otherwise diversified, are 
in opposition to what is so authoritative, so 
humbling, and so holy :— and that, wherever 
these tendencies have been overcome, — where 



95 

self-will has been subdued, where pride has been 
abased, where enmity has been softened, where 
corruption has given way to the self-evidencing 
power of the truth, — the happy effects have 
resulted from an influence more than human,-— 
even from the operation of that Divine Spirit, 
of whom it was said, by the Saviour himself, 
*' When He is come, He will convince the world 
of sin, because they believe not on me."-^ — But 
the nature and necessity of his work are topics 
which, however interesting and important, are 
beyond the limits (though bordering very closely 
upon them) of my present discussion. 

I have before remarked, and now repeat the 
observation, that the confessions of all who have 
in earnest embraced the gospel, or, as the 
Apostle expresses it, " received the love of the 
truth, that they may be saved," are in harmony 
with the conclusion which we have been endea- 
vouring to establish. Whatever may have been 
the varieties of their previous characters, they all 
unite in the humble and penitential acknow- 
ledgment, either that, during the period of their 
unbelief, the truth had been resisted by self-will, 
and pride, and enmity of heart, or that they had 
been deeply guilty, in their careless disregard and 
neglect of it. Whenever a sinner is brought to 
the true knowledge and faith of the gospel, he is 
filled with self-abasement, and shame j — he owns 



96 

the criminality of his previous hostiUty or care- 
lessness ; — and, deeply sensible that the dif- 
ference between his former and his present self 
is to be ascribed to God, — his heart swelling 
with the emotions of grateful love, — he says, 
with no affected lowliness, but in sincere pros- 
tration of spirit — " By the grace of God I am 
what I am !" 

In a great congregation there is necessarily 
a great diversity of character and condition. 
There may be now hearing me more or fewer of 
all the descriptions of persons of whom I have 
been led to speak ; — the profligate, — the care- 
less, — the rich, — the learned, — the self-righteous. 
We cannot enter into the heart of each indi- 
vidual, and directly apply the doctrine of God 
to his or her peculiar views, and feelings, and 
tendencies. We must, in a great measure, 
" draw the bow at a venture." But the omni- 
scient God can guide the arrow. And when we 
select a number of shafts from his quiver, he can 
direct each to the conscience and heart which it 
is especially fitted to pierce. With Him I leave 
the effect of all that has been said, in the per- 
suasion of its consistency with his revealed will. 

I know, at the same time, that I have been 
addressing myself to not a few, to whom it has 
been " given, in the behalf of Christ, to believe 
in his name 5" — who have been convinced of 

7 



97 

their sinfulness, and guilt, and righteous con- 
demnation, and have fled to the despised 
Saviour, as their only refuge, and their only 
hope. — Give the praise, my brethren, where it 
is due. To the grace of God you owe it, that 
you are not still " in the gall of bitterness, and 
bond of iniquity," — "loving darkness rather 
than light,"— -" without Christ and without 
hope." — Let a sense of your obligation make 
you anxious to show the practical influence of 
your faith. Let all your words, and all your 
actions, be brought to the test of that holy light 
which you have received. Formerly, you "came 
hot to the light, lest your deeds should be re- 
proved :" come now to the light, " that your 
deeds may be made manifest that they are 
wrought in God." Let the spirit of faith be the 
spirit of holiness and of love, — the spirit of 
practical godliness. In proportion to the sim- 
plicity and steadfastness of your faith, will be 
the stability of your peace, and the unreserved- 
ness and constancy of your obedience. By the 
unvarying exhibition in your conduct, of "what- 
soever things are true, whatsoever things are just, 
whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are 
honest, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever 
things are of good report," — of all that contains 
in it " any virtue or any praise," — ^let your cha- 
racter present a practical refutation of all the as- 



98 

persions that have been thrown upon that blessed 
truth, to which you now ding for the hope and 
happiness of eternity. Make it manifest that your 
faith " purifies your heart," "works by love," and 
is " the victory that overcometh the world :" — ■ 
that " the Grace of God has brought you salva- 
tion," not merely by delivering you from the 
fears of hell, but by "teaching you to deny 
ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live sober- 
ly, and righteously, and godly." — Many a time 
have you heard the hackneyed lines of the 
poet — 

" Foi" modes of faith let graceless zealots fight ; 
His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right." 

— Now, foolish as every maxim must be, that 
disjoins practice from principle, and supposes 
the one to be right while the other is wrong ; 
there is yet a sense in which the poet's words 
are true. Men are ever putting asunder what 
God has joined, and forming their estimates of 
a right life from partial and inadequate standards. 
But if we only understand the phrase with its 
proper comprehensiveness of meaning, it is cer- 
tainly not far from the truth, that we may infer 
rectitude of faith from rectitude of Hfe. If in a 
right life there be included, not only Hving 
"soberly and righteously," as these words are 
usually understood, but also "godly," — not only 
" doing justly and loving mercy," but, " walking 



99 

humbly with our God,'* — not only worldly 
virtue, but scriptural holiness : — if the Hfe be 
thus right, it may be confidently concluded that 
the faith cannot be far wrong. But you must 
all be aware of the undefined vagueness in which 
the lines are understood by the vast majority of 
those to whose lips, as expressing a favourite 
sentiment, they are most familiar. A right life 
is interpreted by such persons in ten thousand 
shades of meaning : — and neither having, nor 
desiring to have, correct conceptions of its na- 
ture, looseness and generality being much more 
convenient, they only mean, when they sport 
the quotation (for in general it is very lightly 
done) to express their contempt for all dif- 
ferences of mere opinion and belief, and, by the 
help of a well-sounding couplet and a plausible 
sentiment, to apologise for ignorance, and cover 
an aversion to serious inquiry, — But if theif err 
in disjoining practice from faith, beware ye of 
the opposite, and not less pernicious error, of 
disjoining faith from practice. If you do, be 
assured, your faith is mere profession : — you are 
believers only in name. For *' what doth it 
profit, my brethren, if a man say he hath faith, 
and have not works ? Can faith save him ? If 
a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of 
daily food, and one of you say unto them, 
Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled ; not» 

G 

LofC. 



100 



withstanding ye give them not those things 
which are needful for the body ; — what doth it 
profit ? Even so faith, if it have not woiks, is 
dead, being alone," — As, in the case from whicli 
the Apostle draws his comparison, we prefer the 
evidence of deeds to that of words, and pro- 
nounce the man a mere pretender to charity ; so 
must we, in the case which the comparison is 
brought to illustrate, pronounce the fruitless 
professor, — the man who says he has faith, but 
has not works, — a mere pretender to faith. 
There is no charity in the one case ; there is no 
faith in the other. Deceive not yourselves, with 
such a " name to live." *' Be ye doers of the 
word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own 
selves." Let the words of Christ himself, — 
words alike of warning and of encouragement, 
be deeply impressed upon your minds, and pre- 
sent always, with practical power, to your re- 
membrance : — " Therefore, whosoever heareth 
these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will 
liken him unto a wise man, who built his house 
upon a rock ; and the rain descended, and the 
floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon 
that house ; and it fell not ; for it was founded 
upon a rock. And every one that heareth these 
sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be 
likened unto a foolish man, who built his 
house upon the sand j and the rain descended, 



101 

and the floods came, and the winds blew, and 
beat upon that house ; and it fell : and great 
was the fall of it."* 

May God the Spirit so carry home his own 
word, as effectually to convince of sin all who 
have not yet believed in Christ, as he is revealed 
in the testimony of the gospel ! May he carry 
it home to the awakening of the profligate, of 
the thoughtless, of the proud, — of the ''rich 
man, who glories in his riches ; of the mighty 
man, who glories in his might ; of the mse man, 
who glories in his wisdom ;" of the self-righteous 
man, who glories in his virtue ; — and bring 
them all, in their common character of sinners, 
to the foot of the cross, as suppliants for mercy ! 
— The words of the text and context were 
uttered by the lips of the faithful and gracious 
Redeemer himself. They are alike charac- 
terized by the weight of authority, the fidelity 
of w^arning, and the persuasiveness of love. 
" Hear, and your souls shall hve :" — " As Moses 
lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so 
must the Son of man be lifted up ; that whoso- 
ever believeth in him should not perish, but 
have eternal life. For God so loved the world 
that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoso- 
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life. Tor God sent not his Son into 

* Matt. vii. 24—27. 



10^ 

the world to condemn the world ; but that the 
world through him might be saved. He that 
believeth on hnn is not condemned ; but he 
that believeth not is condemned already, be- 
cause he hath not believed in the name of the 
only begotten Son of God. And this is the 
condemnation, that Hght is come into the world, 
and men loved darkness rather than light, be- 
cause their deeds were evil." 



THE END. 



1 



iS. 



^3 J 



> > > JQ) ) 






> xjy > y y . 






>_^Jv' 


■> >j> 


^.[^ 


V5,3 


-^t^l ' 


^ >- 


ftF^ 


■ ■^>:> 


--«X§* ; 


yy 


■^..y 


•» T> 


^ > 


y 


). >' 


yy 


X ) • 


^ 3 :> 


> >^ 


>> 


■ > ^' 


j':> 


• >) >' 


-> ^ 


> > 


'^ ^ 


) 


) ^ 


>. >,?_ 


v^ 




V >> 


> >J>' 


■?.-2- 




y^ -, 


■ ">'."?>■ 


J ■> 












» 3^ > > > 





















Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: April 2006 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Par1< Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 






US 



^^:%.^ 



w 



.^^ ..^ 






>9 2> ^^ > 












^ ■ 3lf 

:»^ o -■3- 



5 36 3 > 



j; ^ J 


W# 


3) pj 


P^ ^ 


j») urn 


^> 



ID JP 






> > 



i33^^ 






1 

x3 y ^ 



m 

>■ > > > 
> > ■> 



ilB^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




017 458 562 3 # 






